Brotherhood
by jazzpha
Summary: Set after Season 5. Slade re-assembles the Titans' greatest foes, intent on destroying the heroes for good. After a brutal attack, the broken Titans flee to Gotham City for help. Will they be able to reclaim their city? Will Slade even give them a chance to? BB/Rae, Rob/Star, a few other pairings. Rated a high 'T' for violence and some language.
1. Blackest Night

**Brotherhood**

**Chapter 1: **Blackest Night

* * *

"So, it looks like everyone's arrived, Slade," Brother Blood said with an oily tone as he sat at the long table across from The Brain and Monsieur Mallah. "Mind telling us just what the hell we're all here for?"

Slade's single eye narrowed in amusement, moving from Blood to The Brain and the rest of the former Brotherhood of Evil's leadership and then finally to a tall, well-built man in a suit with long black hair and sharp, unearthly red eyes. Slade felt like a general surveying the ranks of an army months in the making that was finally complete, and he could hardly wait to let them loose on their shared enemy: the Teen Titans.

"That should be quite obvious, Brother," Slade replied easily. "Each of us has been stopped by the Titans and their allies in the past, and I, for one, am tired of it. I have a proposal for each of you, my friends: we must join our talents and strengths together, and use our combined might to utterly crush the Titans once and for all."

Silence settled over the group at Slade's words, but it was broken soon enough by the well-dressed man sitting at the other end of the table.

"Rousing words, Slade," he spoke, his voice deep and gravelly, "but I know best of all of us that a throne only holds one person. And I also know from experience that if there's one person alive who absolutely cannot be trusted, it is you."

"I can understand your misgivings, Trigon," Slade countered, leaving off the 'Lord' from the demon's name just to grate with him even more, "but you should also know from experience that alone, none of us have the strength individually to destroy the Titans. And if you wish to regain your former strength, that is what must come to pass; am I wrong?"

Trigon was silenced by the rebuke, and returned to stewing in anger. He had been relegated to this pathetic shadow of his former self ever since his daughter had turned her back on him. The demon lord was damned by his own prophecy: as long as Raven lived, so would he, but only in this weakened form.

Until, of course, he tore open her chest and devoured her heart, taking with it the power that rightfully belonged to him. And if allying with these weakened beings was what it took to bring about that end, then so be it.

"And what exactly does the Brotherhood of Evil stand to gain from this, Slade?" Brain questioned, his voice as terse and sharp as ever. "If you expect us to share power with anyone, you're out of your mind."

Slade chuckled, utterly unmoved by the implied threat.

"The Brotherhood of Evil was annihilated, Brain, do you not remember?" Slade taunted, with sly malice dripping from his every word. "If it hadn't been for me digging up you and your frozen comrades and thawing you out, you'dd still be sitting deep underground in suspended animation. Take what I'll be willing to give you after the conquest is done and be grateful for it, or I can easily arrange for your shattered Brotherhood to go back to the hell the Titans trapped you in."

Madame Rouge tensed at the insult and looked like she was about ready to lunge across the table, but Mallah stopped her with one massive arm.

"He's right, as much as I hate to admit it," the gargantuan gorilla ceded. "As we stand now, it would be useless to go against the Titans, and it would take far too long to rebuild our legion. To say nothing of the fact that most of them are behind bars or dead, anyway."

"Enough blabbering," General Immortus broke in suddenly, pounding an aged fist down on the table. "We all seem to be in agreement that this alliance—such as it is—is a necessity for finally putting each of those wretched little shits in the ground. So why don't we stop repeating ourselves and start thinking of a plan?"

"Indeed," The Brain chimed in at last, his metallic monotone still managing to sound menacing. "Would not a frontal assault be the simplest course of action?"

"The simplest and most direct, absolutely," Slade replied evenly, "but also the least likely to succeed. Ever since my failed attack on the Tower when Terra was my agent in the Titans' ranks, their security has been tripled. No matter how many drones we can throw against them, if the Titans are forewarned in any way, all we're going to come away with will be an incredibly costly defeat."

"Well, there's an easy fix to that, isn't there?" Mallah countered. "Just use long-range bombardment to level their Tower completely in a matter of minutes."

"That won't work, either," Trigon said, his voice sending brief shivers down the spines of everyone present, save Slade and The Brain, "for the same reason that a swarm attack would fail. What I fail to understand, myself, is why all of you are looking at this as a campaign of physical warfare."

General Immortus arched a single eyebrow at the leading statement, his strategic mind immediately comprehending the demon's thoughts.

"You mean to say that a psychological strike would be more effective, Trigon?" the old man parried. "Possible, but also unlikely; if there's anything these little maggots have been shown to have in spades, it's determination in the face of the odds stacked against them. I believe you yourself stand as an excellent example of this, Sir."

"Maybe so, human," Trigon shot back, his eyes narrowing in anger, "but _I_ believe you are simply failing to see the forest for the trees. The Titans are no different from any organization of humans or metahumans that has ever existed, or will ever exist: they are an instinctual beast reined in by a single, unifying and charismatic leader. Kill the leader— chop off the beast's head— and its fangs will never be able to harm you again."

The cabal of villains paused to consider the proposal for a moment, and it was Mallah who broke the silence.

"So in essence, you're proposing a kamikaze strike, in the hopes of overwhelming the Titans long enough to kill Robin? I won't deny that it could work; but where, Trigon, is the guarantee that such a loss on the Titans' end would counter-balance our own inevitable casualties?"

"Are you implying that you would actually care about any losses we might suffer, you overgrown simian?" Brother Blood sneered, provoking a snarl from Mallah. "Such weakness is unbecoming. I agree with Lord Trigon: if we can deliver a blow crippling enough to the Titans before they are fully prepared for our resurgence, it's a chance worth taking. Besides, if this goes well enough, we might be able to kill them all in one fell swoop: all we would have to do would be keep our strike force small enough to avoid detection until the last possible moment. I doubt there is anyone here who would be opposed to that method of attack, am I wrong?"

"Not at all, Brother," Slade answered, his eye narrowing beneath his mask. "I only demand that I be given the right to fight Robin alone; no one else may interfere."

Brother Blood chuckled.

"That's fine by me, Slade, as long as I'm allowed the same privilege where Cyborg is concerned. That cretin owes me for every day I spent reconstructing myself."

"You mortals can do as you like," Trigon broke in gruffly, his eyes narrowing, "provided that my daughter falls to me."

"Leaving us with the Tamaranean and the Changeling," The Brain concluded shortly, "and almost two of us for each of them, seeing as how I will remain here monitoring all of you. As such, the odds of our victory are incredibly close to one-hundred percent."

As the plan became more and more concrete in the villains' minds, the animosity in the air between them turned into focused bloodlust.

"Well, if we're all sold on this plan, what the hell are we waiting for?" Madame Rouge spoke up brusquely from her seat. Slade nodded in turn, rising from his own chair as the rest of the new Brotherhood of Evil followed suit.

"Shall we?"

* * *

Beast Boy found himself wandering through the halls of Titans' Tower as the moon hung high in the sky, nothing on his mind except irritation at not being able to sleep and the nagging feeling that something was wrong. As he made his way up and out onto the roof, Beast Boy saw that he wasn't the only one suffering from a bout of insomnia.

"So, you couldn't sleep either, Raven?" he asked as he walked up to stand beside her, and the empath shook her head in the negative.

"Nightmare," she said flatly after a moment. "It feels like that little piece of himself Trigon left behind is getting rebellious again. But I know that's not your reason, so what're you doing up?"

Beast Boy just shrugged.

"Couldn't sleep."

Raven could read Beast Boy's emotions well enough to know that 'Couldn't sleep' meant 'I had another dream about Terra', but she didn't press the issue. The shape-shifter had been despondent for the better part of the month, and would still get touchy whenever someone so much as mentioned her name.

But Raven knew what it was like to lose someone so close, and didn't want to re-open any of her friend's old wounds.

"I got a bad feeling, Raven," Beast Boy said after a few moments. "Y'know when that tsunami hit Indonesia a while back, and there were all those stories about the elephants getting the hell out of there early because they could tell something was coming?"

Raven nodded.

"Yeah," she answered. "Their instincts told them something was wrong with the environment. Why, is that what you're feeling right now?"

"Uh huh," Beast Boy affirmed with a short nod. "On an epic scale."

The pair stood and gazed up at the moon, each looking for their own answer to their own question and finding nothing. The last two years had brought about a number of changes in the Titans: members had been gained and lost, battles had been fought and won, but sometimes at great cost. The honorary Titans that had helped in the final battle against the Brotherhood of Evil had all left to return to their respective cities. After all, they were all concerned more about the safety of their hometowns than about Jump City, which already had the five original Titans looking after it. Slade hadn't been heard from since Beast Boy had thrashed the drone he'd sent to torment the Titan, but Robin always kept one ear to the ground in case the maniac decided to show up again.

So Jump City had remained peaceful, but the Titans knew better than anyone that a period of peace wasn't bound to last long in a world like theirs.

"It's a hunter's moon out tonight," a new, unknown voice broke in suddenly, and was joined by another that replied.

"Indeed; as good a witness for a massacre as ever there was."

The two Titans spun around sharply to see whom the intruders were, and gasped silently in horror as they recognized the imposing form of Monsieur Mallah. The other figure was cloaked in the shadows, but all it took were four red eyes flashing briefly on his face for Raven to feel like the Earth had opened up beneath her feet.

"No…" the empath forced out past her despair, and the incarnation of her father simply laughed as he walked towards her.

"Oh, _yes_," the demon lord quipped viciously, before hurling a spear of fire at his daughter. Raven rolled hard to the left to avoid the attack, but was faced with another one screaming towards her as soon as she got to her feet. There was no way she could dodge this one, and it slammed right into her chest. Thrown backwards off of her feet and reflexively coughing up a stream of dark blood, Raven flew over the edge of the roof and began a freefall downwards. As she fell, however, the looming humanoid form of her father appeared over her with his fist cocked back.

"Where do you think you're going, child?" he asked with a savage grin, bringing his fist forward and ramming it into the spot where his previous attack had connected. The last thing Raven felt before she blacked out from the pain was several of her ribs snapping like matchsticks under the strain, and then all that remained was the mute darkness of oblivion.

Back atop the Tower, Beast Boy was struggling against Mallah and felt his strength flagging more and more by the minute.

"Why won't you just stay down?!" the shape-shifter yelled in fury, and Mallah gave a deep, rumbling laugh.

"What's wrong, little changeling?" he taunted. "Are you so incapable of fighting someone with an actual intellect? Just as I thought; when someone can see through your brute force and blind fury, you have nothing left. How pathetic."

"Shut the hell up!" Beast Boy roared back, tapping into his primal anger and transforming into large predator after large predator. But the lion's bite was too slow, the tiger's paw strike too short-reaching, and the velociraptor ultimately too frail to stand up to Mallah's devastating right hook.

"God damn it!" Beast Boy cursed in anger and frustration as he lay almost facedown on the cement, propped up on one broken arm and one that was barely being held in place by a dislocated shoulder.

"I'm afraid he can't help you now, boy," Mallah countered bluntly, looming over his prey. "And here I was thinking I would have to call in Immortus for backup… how the old Brotherhood lost to trash like you in the first place, I have no idea."

The gorilla brought his foot down hard on Beast Boy's back, and the shape-shifter screamed in agony as he felt his vertebrae being forced out of alignment.

"Huh," he vaguely heard Mallah grunt, "you're still in one piece? Impressive, for a runt."

Beast Boy knew as well as his attacker that the next strike would at best paralyze him from the stomach down, and at worst split him completely in two. As he felt his limbs growing lighter, his own blood pooling against his cheek, there was a single face in the Titan's mind:

"_Terra…"_

* * *

Brother Blood made his way assuredly through the halls of Titans Tower, feeling a lingering sense of disappointment. He'd expected breaking into the Tower to at least be a challenge, and maybe rouse the Titans into a fight. But after all of the new Brotherhood's preparations, the security system had turned out to be absurdly simple to crack. Biometrics and voice recognition? Did the Titans think they'd never be fighting a shape-shifter like Madame Rouge ever again?

It was just ridiculous.

"Oh, Cyborg," the half-mechanical telepath lamented as he walked into Cyborg's room at last and faced down the sleeping teen, "how the mighty have fallen, indeed. I expected so much better from you, and you've done nothing but disappoint me."

As he reached out with a red cybernetic arm and prepared to spear it through his enemy's chest, Cyborg jerked suddenly to life from a cold start and lashed out with a hard jab.

"You really need to learn when to shut up, Blood," the Titan growled and he advanced, following up his first strike with a hard uppercut.

"I don't know how you pulled yourself back together, but that doesn't matter," Cyborg said, both of his eyes blazing with hatred and determination. "I took you apart once, and I can do it again!"

Blood took in a shaky breath as Cyborg backed off for a moment to charge up his arm-cannon, surprised by the strength of his former student's assault.

"You sound so sure of yourself, boy," he forced out, smiling as he felt his circuits re-wiring and repairing themselves as he spoke. "But you forget that a skilled combatant always adapts to new situations, Cyborg; if you think I never thought to upgrade myself since our last fight, you're sorely mistaken."

A pair of red laser beams hit Cyborg simultaneously, before he could even register Blood's movements. As he flew back into the wall with a crash, Cyborg saw Blood turning his dual arm-cannons back into talon-like metallic hands.

"Too easy," Blood sneered, leaping forward and punching the rest of the way through the twin wounds his earlier attack had inflicted. Cyborg retched as pain lanced along his nerves and his circuitry began to scramble, oil and blood mingling as it ran from the gaping wounds down onto the floor.

"What's wrong, Cyborg?" Blood taunted cruelly as he yanked his hands out and struck again and again and again, grinning with manic glee as he finally got his revenge. "Why don't you fight back? You can't, can you!? That's because you're weak and inexperienced, boy! You were never worthy to stand against me, let alone stand by my side!

"And now," the older man said with a sigh as he stepped back and looked over the twisted wreckage he'd turned Cyborg into, "I'm finally going to correct my greatest failure."

Pointing one of his arm cannons right at Cyborg's head, the weary Titan could only look blankly into the black, gaping maw of the weapon in front of him. Brother Blood's human eye clouded over for a brief moment with something akin to regret, but it vanished as soon as it had come.

"Goodbye, Cyborg."

The sound of the energy discharge echoed weakly in the small room, and then all was silent.

* * *

The sounds of a fight breaking out in Cyborg's room awoke Robin with a start. He was on his feet an instant later, bo-staff in hand.

"Star, get up," he said urgently, but the Tamaranean that had been lying next to him moments before was slow to rouse herself.

"What is wrong, Robin?" she asked, rubbing the sleep out of her eyes and yawning. When she saw the look Robin shot her way, though, Starfire was immediately on edge.

"We're under attack," the leader of the Titans said with stone-cold seriousness as he headed for the door, Starfire following close behind him. As they stepped out into the hallway, the pair was confronted at once by a duel in progress. Slade was exchanging blows with Beast Boy, and clearly had the upper hand.

"Slade!" Robin shouted, charging forward and engaging his nemesis at once. "Starfire, get Beast Boy out of here!" he called back to his teammate, frowning when he saw how hesitant she was to leave him behind.

"Damn it, Starfire, that's an order!" he repeated. "I can handle Slade; you worry about Beast Boy!"

Starfire nodded and scooped the injured shape-shifter into her arms, racing down the hallway in a burst of flight. As he saw her get away, Robin switched his focus entirely to the man in front of him.

"Slade," he hissed with venom in his voice. "I knew you weren't gone for good."

"Of course not, Robin," Slade replied in his usual smug monotone, effortlessly parrying a punch and giving his former apprentice a spinning heel-kick to the chest in return. "Did you think I would ever stop hunting the Titans? Did you ever think I would stop hunting you?"

Robin smiled through his pain, readying his bo-staff for a second round of blows.

"Right back at you, Slade," he quipped, and Slade chuckled darkly before the two of them clashed once again.

"You're not worried about her?" the older warrior said during a deadlock, his eye narrowing. "I'm not the only one who came here tonight, Robin. If the girl gets ambushed by my colleagues, in particular Trigon, I can't guarantee they'll let her live."

Robin's eyes widened at the name of Raven's father, but he forced himself to stay focused on the duel at hand.

"Trigon?" he asked sharply. "What the hell are you talking about, Slade? Trigon's dead; Raven stopped him last year!"

Slade just laughed, sweeping a staff strike away with one arm and lashing out with the other. The punch caught Robin in the sternum, and the Titan stumbled slightly backwards. Rather than follow up his attack, though, Slade took the opportunity to keep screwing with his former apprentice's head.

"You really thought a being as powerful and tenacious as Trigon could really be completely destroyed by something like that, Robin?" he asked. "Come now, we both know you're not really that naïve. His power might have been broken, but it is by no means extinguished. And once he kills Raven and absorbs her essence, he'll be restored to close to his original strength."

"Like I'd let that happen, Slade!" Robin seethed, launching another volley of blows with renewed fury.

"Like you could stop it, Robin," Slade countered calmly as he dodged every blow. "Which reminds me: Trigon spoke recently about his need to father a new heir… yes, I believe it would be safe to say that the Tamaranean's fate will be _far_ worse than death if Trigon finds her."

The leader of the Titans felt his vision tunnel with pure rage as the implications of Slade's words wrapped themselves around his mind, losing all pretense of control as he lunged at his nemesis with reckless abandon.

"So, you're still an amateur after all," Slade said with mocking dismissal as he sidestepped a desperate strike and took Robin's leading arm into a hold, breaking it with a swift jerk upwards. "I wonder what Lady Shiva would think if she saw you now, Robin. What a disgraceful student for such an illustrious teacher."

"That's in the past, Slade," Robin said coldly, seemingly unfazed by the arm hanging limp and useless at his side. "I left that part of me behind in Gotham when I came here."

"Really, now?" Slade pressed. "I'm sure your father would be so displeased to hear you say that, Robin. But then again, Batman isn't your real father, is he? I wonder what John Grayson would think if he saw you now, _Richard_."

Robin stopped dead in his tracks as he heard those two names, two of his most closely-guarded secrets. His name, and the name of his murdered biological father.

"How…" he gasped out, struggling to keep his mind focused and block out his emotional shock. "How do you know those names?"

Slade's eye narrowed maliciously, and he gave an almost carefree laugh.

"What do you mean, 'How do I know those names', Richard? I've known them since the day your parents fell off of that sabotaged high-wire eleven years ago. Do you know why, Richard?

"It's because I was the person that mobster Zucco hired to do the job."

The revelation hit Robin like bullets to the chest, and he couldn't even move himself to react as Slade struck out once more with another punch. Blow after blow connected with his body, but Robin was beyond feeling any pain.

Slade? _Slade_ had killed his parents? Slade had damned him into the hell of being an orphan with no home, a fate he had only been saved from by the miraculous intervention of his foster father, Batman? All this time, Slade had looked him in the eyes without even flinching? He had forced him to become his goddamn apprentice, taught him like his own heir, even as Slade knew what he had done to destroy his new student's life?

It just didn't make any sense. It was too twisted for Robin's mind to even begin to understand, let alone try to discover the reason why. As the pain screaming in his bruised and beaten body finally called him back into the present, Robin was barely aware of a hand resting on top of his head, while another cupped his chin.

"I'm sorry things had to end this way between us, Robin," Slade said softly, the only other sound in the hallway that of blood dripping down from Robin's smashed nose onto the floor.

"I'll see you in hell, Slade," Robin said faintly, only to be greeted by another breathy chuckle.

"My dear Robin," he said, "I'm already there."

With that, the villain moved his hands with practiced smoothness in opposite directions, and the _crack_ of Robin's neck bounced weakly off the walls as the leader of the Teen Titans slumped to the ground, unmoving.

* * *

Starfire felt her heart clutch for a moment and she stopped in midair, her eyes going wide. She didn't know how or why, but her spirit screamed from inside her that something terrible had just happened to the boy she cared so deeply for.

"Starfire, what's wrong?" Beast Boy asked hesitantly, and the Tamaranean was silent for several moments before replying.

"I fear that Robin is in horrible danger, Beast Boy," she said gravely. "Forgive me, but I must make sure he is all right!"

As she began to fly away, she was stopped again; this time, by the sudden feeling of Beast Boy's hand around her wrist.

"No, Starfire," he pleaded, "you can't go! Robin stayed behind so that we could get somewhere safe. We can't just let his death be for nothing!"

Starfire felt her anger turn to suspicion at her teammate's words, and turned to face Beast Boy with narrowed eyes.

"How are you so sure he is dead, Beast Boy?"

"I'm not sure, Starfire," the shape-shifter shot back at once, "but right now doesn't look like a time to be optimistic, does it?!"

That all-but confirmed the Tamaranean's doubts, and she powered up a starbolt in her hand as he eyes began to glow.

"Beast Boy would never use such elevated vocabulary at a time like this," she said sternly. "Explain yourself; who are you?"

A cruel smirk that seemed incredibly out of place on Beast Boy's face twisted his lips, and Starfire felt the sudden urge to run away as fast as she could. It went against her pride as a warrior, but her survival here was much more important. Before she could move to get away, though, Starfire felt a sharp stab of agony and all of the air was forced from her lungs. Looking down, she saw with shock that four razor-sharp, black-gloved fingers had pierced her abdomen. Turning slowly back around, she watched mutely as Beast Boy's figure twisted and shifted to become that of Madame Rouge.

"You figured it out after all," she said sultrily. "Unfortunately, a little too late."

Starfire fell to the ground as the spear-like fingers retracted, but was halfway to her feet a heartbeat later. She stopped, however, when a communicator at Madame Rouge's hip crackled to life.

"This is Slade," an emotionless voice seeped through the speaker. "I'm finished here. If any of you aren't already standing over a Titan's corpse, pull back and regroup. Once the survivors rally, they're going to attack with that much more ferocity."

Starfire felt the words of her enemy against her eardrum, but she didn't feel them: her heart was somewhere else entirely in that moment.

"Robin…" she whispered, stricken by the reality Slade seemed to be reporting. "No…"

"I'm afraid so, darling," Madame Rouge said smugly, nothing in her voice but spite. "All those times they fought in the past, Slade had a reason to keep that boy alive. But now, there's nothing like that holding him back. Now, we've finally decided to stop messing around and take you slime seriously.

"The Teen Titans won't see the sunrise."

Starfire's disbelief and anguish had combined to form an overwhelming torrent of rage, one that had been building and building in strength since Madame Rouge had begun her gloating victory speech. The villainess' final words pushed the Tamaranean over the edge, and Starfire gave an inhuman warcry at the same time she struck out at Rouge with a bone-shattering punch. It connected soundly with Rouge's ribcage, right above the heart. Carried by the most righteous fury she'd ever felt in her life, Starfire sped back down the hall to where she'd last seen Robin.

When she got there, what she saw made her drop to her knees, and she wept openly for the first time since her childhood.

* * *

Raven couldn't see anything. She couldn't move her arms or legs, either. But she could feel them, which meant she was alive. But if she was alive, then where was she?

"Somewhere safe, my child."

The maternal, nurturing voice pulled Raven's gaze over to the left, where she saw a form standing that she hadn't seen in years.

"Mother?" Raven asked softly, scarcely able to believe it. Arella nodded, a sad smile on her face. "What are you doing here?"

The adoptive member of Azarath laughed, and Raven felt her spirits begin to lift just from the sound.

"What, you thought your father was the only person who gave you power, Raven? I happened to place in a few safeguards of my own; I'm not totally ignorant of magic, I'll have you know."

Raven's eyes narrowed at the mention of Trigon, her voice hardening to flint.

"That monster is not my father, mother," she spat. But Arella just shook her head.

"Yes, Raven," she insisted, "unfortunately, he is. And you cannot simply ignore that side of yourself forever: if you do that, you will never understand it, and if you never understand it, you will never be able to defeat him once and for all. As long as you push that part of yourself away, you give Trigon an anchor to hold onto in this world."

Arella's daughter was silent for a moment, taking in her mother's words. But as she went to speak, Raven saw that the image of her mother was beginning to fade away.

"Mother, wait—!" she called out, but Arella waved her back.

"We can speak again some other time, my child," she said. "Right now, there's someone else who needs your help."

Raven saw a quick flash of Beast Boy being brutalized by Monsieur Mallah, and her heart began to race in fear.

"Go to him, my daughter," Arella said, her voice disappearing more by the second. "I'll hold off Trigon."

Raven felt a lurching sensation in the pit of her stomach as the blanket of darkness around her was ripped away, and the cold night air rushed back into her bruised lungs. She was on the ground, somehow having survived the fall from the top of the tower, and her father's new form was looming over her with murder in his eyes.

"Oh, good, you're awake," he said with mocking concern. "I was beginning to think that fall had killed you, despite my efforts to keep that from happening. And I couldn't absorb the power from a still, dead heart, now could I?"

As Trigon reached down to tear her heart out of her chest, Raven felt a surge of power rush through every inch of her body, lifting her partway off the ground with its force. Tendrils of white energy lashed out at Trigon, driving him away as they carved scars into his flesh.

"What is this—" the demon began, before he recognized the energy that was attacking him. "Arella, you worthless whore!" he boomed. "When I have my powers back in full, I swear to you I'm going to find you and rip you to pieces!"

Raven didn't stay to listen to the rest of her father's rant, using what strength she still had in her to fly back up to the top of the Tower as fast as she could. There, she saw Mallah poised to give Beast Boy a killing blow, Beast Boy's face still contorted in pain despite him being unconscious.

Not even giving herself a second to think, Raven flew right at Mallah and used her powers to give strength to a full-body tackle. The impact threw the giant gorilla clean off of Beast Boy, sending him sailing all the way over the other side of the Tower and off of it. Raven quickly knelt down beside Beast Boy, ignoring her own pain long enough to channel some of her energy into her friend. She realigned his spine first, which caused him to jerk back to consciousness with a weak moan. Looking up at his rescuer, Beast Boy's eyes were clouded with confusion for a moment before he saw who had rescued him.

"Raven…?" he whispered, his voice low and strained. "Thanks…"

With that, the shape-shifter lapsed back into unconsciousness and was still. Raven felt fear sweep through her again at the thought that he might have succumbed to exhaustion, but his pulse remained active. Raven continued to heal Beast Boy for as long as she could, whispering encouragement to him the whole time, before she could feel the energy her mother had given her fading away at last. Taking Beast Boy into her arms, Raven carried him inside the Tower and laid him down on a couch to rest.

* * *

Starfire and Raven, the two conscious members of the three surviving Teen Titans, sat in the main room in dead silence. The place that had once been so lively and happy was now empty and cold: Beast Boy was still bordering on slipping into a coma, Robin was dead and Cyborg's body was nowhere to be found. The members of the new Brotherhood had all vanished without a trace, leading Raven and Starfire to assume they were all still alive and would attack again.

"Starfire, I'm going to go check on Beast Boy," Raven said, watching her friend's reaction with concern. Starfire could only nod absently, her mind miles away.

Why had this happened? What had the Titans ever done to deserve such harsh retribution? Why did Robin have to die, and Cyborg? Why had her friends left her without even saying goodbye? She'd never even had the chance to tell Robin that she—

The Tamaranean's thoughts were cut short by the sharp ring of the main telephone. Starfire let it go, but as it reached the fifteenth straight ring, she began to wonder who it might be. Stumbling over, she picked up the phone and raised it to her ear.

"Who is this?"

The voice on the other end of the line was as cold as ice, and impenetrable as shadow.

"This is Batman," it said. "Robin is dead, isn't he?"

Starfire took a deep breath, gathering up the courage to admit it to Batman, and to herself.

"Yes," she answered, "he is. How did you know of this?"

"I have my ways," the master detective answered obliquely, saying nothing more for a few moments.

"You are the one called 'Starfire', am I right?" he asked at length.

"Yes," she replied, and thought she heard Batman give a heavy sigh on the other end.

"Listen to me very carefully, Starfire," he said. "Was Robin's body in one piece when you found it?"

Although the memory of it made her want to start crying again, the Tamaranean recalled the image of Robin's corpse for a brief moment before putting it out of her mind again.

"It was," she said.

"Good," Batman answered shortly. "That means there might still be a way to save him, but you have to trust me and do exactly what I tell you right now. Can you do that, Starfire?"

Starfire had been sent reeling by the possibility of reviving Robin, but she quickly pulled herself back under control.

"Yes, sir."

"Come to Gotham City as soon as you can, and bring the body with you," Batman explained. "Go to the main Water Tower, and a woman named Shiva will be waiting for you there. Follow where she leads. The organization she is associated with will have access to something called a Lazarus Pit. It's a gamble, but putting Robin in one of those pits is the only way I can think to save him."

Starfire steeled herself for the mission, but one thing was still nagging at the corner of her mind.

"But, sir," she began, "where is it exactly that these Lazarus Pits are kept?"

Batman was quiet for a moment before he answered.

"In the headquarters of the League of Shadows," he explained,

"Under the watchful eye of Ra's Al Ghul."

* * *

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**A/N:** I was originally going to wait until Chapter 2 was done and then post them both one after another. But then this chapter turned out jumbo-size, so I decided to just post it anyway. Hope you liked it, and **please review** if you did; they're what keeps me going.

For those of you wondering about some of the characters that are more from the Batman comics than the Teen Titans TV Series, here's a quick rundown of the ones that have shown up so far, or will show up in the very near future:

**Lady Shiva:** One of the greatest martial artists alive, if not the greatest. Born Sandra Wu-san. Was responsible at one point for teaching Batman, although her use of killing techniques put them at odds.

**Ra's Al Ghul: **'The Demon's Head', Ra's is an eco-terrorist who has extended his life for centuries by using _Lazarus Pits_, pools of chemicals that rejuvinate the user and, in some cases, can revive the recently-deceased. Some side-effects may ensue from this process, however. Ra's is also the head of his own criminal organization, the **League of Shadows**. Ra's' daughter, **Talia**, was once a lover of Batman.


	2. Things Change

**Brotherhood**

**Chapter 2: **Things Change

* * *

Raven walked into the room where Beast Boy lay on the couch unmoving, the gentle rise and fall of his chest as he breathed and an occasional groan the only outward signs that he was still alive. Raven felt completely and totally exhausted, but nonetheless fought hard against the sleepiness that threatened to drag her down. Taking a seat near Beast Boy's head, Raven placed one of her hands on each of his temples and slowly closed her eyes. She felt their energies beginning to blend, forming the bridge that the empath hoped would be able to accelerate the healing process.

Superficially applying energy to the area of the wounds was one thing, but this method allowed her to send much larger amounts of it directly into his skeletal and muscular systems. It was like swapping out one cup of coffee for three simultaneous IVs of pure caffeine. Unfortunately, there was another side effect to the more direct merger that Raven hadn't fully prepared for: her empathic abilities allowed her to sense and manipulate energy flows between bodies, but along with the energy came emotions as well.

And Beast Boy was a very, _very_ emotional person. The whirlwind of feelings almost knocked Raven over as it crashed into her, but she held her ground even as the strain of doing so caused sweat to bead on her forehead. The tornado broke apart in the middle of the black void that was the space between their minds, the fragments shifting and swirling until they had coalesced into forms. Raven recognized the Titans, Terra and the Doom Patrol, but there were some other people she didn't know; she assumed Beast Boy had a strong emotional connection to them, whoever they were. Taking a moment to catch her breath, the empath walked over to the figure of Cyborg and held out her hand, placing it on his head.

She was immediately hit by a wave of happiness so strong it made her giddy enough to spontaneously laugh out loud, and a sensation of deep trust and friendship so complete that it made Raven envious and made her ache deeply at the same time. What she wouldn't give to have someone as close to her as that, someone who trusted her absolutely and wasn't afraid to actually _say_ it—

But then Raven's envy was brutally undercut by the memory that Cyborg was dead and gone, and all she felt then was intense pity for Beast Boy: it was going to be ugly when he woke up and confronted the truth.

Shaking her head, the empath banished the ghostly figure of Cyborg back into the void. She was about to simply sever the connection and go back to healing Beast Boy the old-fashioned way when Raven caught something out of the corner of her eye that made her stop and re-consider. A shimmering hologram of herself stood a short distance away from one of Terra, the doppelganger silently tempting Raven to reach out and touch it. She could find out exactly what he thought about her, if she wanted to. It would be so easy—

_No_, she stopped herself, pulling her hand back just inches away from her mirror image. _It would also be a heinous invasion of his privacy. _And why did she even care what Beast Boy thought about her, anyway? He was immature, hyperactive, and still heartsick over losing Terra for the second time. Shaking her head firmly, Raven focused and pulled herself out of the connection she had forged between her soul and Beast Boy's. As she sluggishly came back to her senses, the empath heard a voice floating on the edge of her perception that steadily grew louder and louder.

"Raven? Raven? Hey, Raven, are you okay? Say something!"

"I'm fine," she forced out tersely without thinking, before she blinked once and realized that Beast Boy was looking at her with concern written all over his face. It quickly became replaced with surprise and more than a little anger as he heard her words, though, and Raven immediately felt guilty.

"Sorry I snapped," she apologized after a moment. "It's been a hell of a night, and I'm exhausted."

"Don't worry about it," the shape-shifter replied easily, rubbing the back of his neck and sighing. "I know what you mean; I feel like shit. And if you hadn't spent so much time healing me, I'd feel even worse. Thanks again, Raven."

The empath felt her guilt increase even more that his words, and she turned away to get those piercing eyes off of her.

"Don't thank me yet, you moron," she parried. "You still have a lot of injuries I need to finish patching up."

"Oh, I know," Beast Boy said with a groan. "Mallah almost ripped me in half back there..."

As he remembered the battle he'd fought against the overgrown gorilla, the memories of the previous hours came rushing back to Beast Boy in full force. He sprang to his feet at once, looking around wildly.

"Where is everyone?" he asked quickly, a manic edge to his voice. "Where's Cyborg? What about Robin and Starfire? Are they all right? What the hell happened here, Raven!?"

"Beast Boy, calm down!" Raven shot back with as much force as she could muster, which was just enough to get Beast Boy to stop freaking out and look over at her. "You might want to sit back down," she continued, her tone gentler this time. The shape-shifter gave her a confused look, but slowly sunk back down onto the couch with a wince all the same.

"Raven," he said slowly, "what happened to us?"

She thought of five different ways to break the truth to her teammate, but in the end Raven decided that the direct approach was the best one.

"Robin is dead, Beast Boy," she said as evenly as she could. "So is Cyborg. You, me and Starfire are the only Titans left."

"What?" Beast Boy exclaimed, his eyes going wide with surprise. "Is that some kind of twisted joke, Raven? You can't be serious! I mean, there's no way that would ever happen to Cyborg or Robin…" his voice trailed off as he saw that Raven's face was completely still, and her violet eyes held no traces of even the faintest amount of humor.

"You're not joking," he said flatly, shock creeping over his face as the weight of Raven's words finally settled over him. "Oh god, you're not joking."

"No, I'm not," she answered, her voice gaining a slight edge of its own. "I wouldn't joke around about something like this, Beast Boy, and you know it."

The shape-shifter was silent for several moments, and Raven could feel his emotions re-arranging themselves before her eyes. All of his outward exuberance receded and vanished to somewhere deep within his psyche, locked behind doors even Raven couldn't see through. The empath kept waiting for something to fill the empty space, but nothing moved in; Raven's eyes widened as she realized that nothing was going to.

"They're still out there, aren't they?"

The tone of the question was so cold and sharp that Raven felt like she'd just been stabbed, and she had to force herself not to flinch.

"Yeah, they are," she answered, "but if you think you're going to go after them, you're insane."

"Why?" Beast Boy shot back, and Raven was torn as she saw the pain and rage so clearly flowing off of him. "Do you think I'm too weak?"

"Don't be ridiculous, Beast Boy," she parried with equal strength, fueled by her rising anger. "This isn't the time to give in to your desire for revenge!"

"What else is there to do, Raven!?" Beast Boy shouted back, tears at the corners of his eyes. "Where can we run? Who could possibly help us!?"

"We can run to Gotham City," Starfire's calm voice broke into the argument. "I believe we might find friends there."

Raven and Beast Boy both turned on the newly-arrived Tamaranean, ready to say something, before the sight of her holding Robin's lifeless body in her arms silenced them both.

"I have received word from the hero called Batman that there might be a way to revive Robin, but if it is to work we must hurry to Gotham City right now."

"What about Cyborg?" Beast Boy asked immediately, a sliver of hope creeping back into his voice, but it faded as soon as he saw Starfire shake her head.

"It seems as though a body is required for the process to work, and we do not have Cyborg's with us," she explained. "I am sorry, Beast Boy."

The shape-shifter shrugged sharply after a moment, walking quickly towards the door.

"Forget about it," he growled. "Let's just get to Gotham, before another one of us dies."

* * *

The sunrise was coming to a close as the three Titans touched down in Gotham a few hours after leaving Jump City, the squalor of the decaying slums laid bare in the revealing light. The trio of heroes was silent as they made their way cautiously through the back alleys and narrow streets, stepping over more than a few drunkards and overdosed, passed-out junkies as they went.

"How can anyone live here?" Raven asked to no one in particular, not expecting Beast Boy to reply with the first words he'd said since they had left the ruined Tower.

"No one lives here, Raven," he said bitterly. "Robin told me about these slums one time. Everyone who lives in Gotham lives downtown; the only people in the slums are the ones who come here to deal and die."

Raven found herself having to force down the urge to hit Beast Boy with a jab so hard it would bust his jaw. She was already sick of his new tough-guy façade, and the last thing she wanted was his callousness to start infecting her own mood. But before she could say anything in reply, the Titans crested a small hill of dirt and garbage and the Water Tower they'd been seeking came into view at last.

"It seems as though we have arrived," Starfire said, too tired to sound happy but not too tired to smile. As the trio approached the base of the structure, the figure of a lone woman became visible. She was tall, lithe and muscular, imposing even as she stood in a totally relaxed stance. Her face was angular and her eyes coal-black, intently watching every movement of the three ragged refugees.

"You are the 'Shiva' that Batman spoke of, yes?" Starfire asked to break the silence, and Shiva nodded.

"The one and only," the master martial artist answered simply. As her eyes fell on Robin's corpse, Shiva's expression softened for a moment, but it had re-hardened before any of the Titans could be sure they'd seen otherwise.

"I couldn't believe Richard had actually died when Batman told me," Shiva continued, "but I guess even he had his limits, after all."

"Richard?" Raven asked with an arched eyebrow, and Shiva looked at her in mild surprise.

"What, he never told any of you his real name?" she asked, and all three of the Titans shook their heads. Shiva gave a short laugh.

"How typical. Come, we should get moving; the Lazarus Pit works best within four hours of the time of death, and we have a bit of a hike ahead of us."

The trio followed after Shiva as she weaved her way effortlessly through the labyrinth of Gotham City, the locals tripping over themselves in their haste to get out of her way as she passed. Raven noticed that Beast Boy was lagging slightly behind the rest of the group, and saw her opportunity to finally get some answers out of the shape-shifter. Slowing her stride, she took a few steps side-by-side with Beast Boy and made sure that Starfire and Shiva were out of earshot before breaking the uneasy silence.

"All right; cut the bullshit, Beast Boy."

The shape-shifter chuckled.

"Is that supposed to be a threat, Raven?" he countered. "You're gonna have to do a lot better than that."

"_Fine_."

Raven's pointer finger jabbed out at the center of Beast Boy's forehead before the shape-shifter could so much as blink, and his eyes rolled into the back of his head while the rest of his body stayed perfectly still.

"Hey, what the hell was… that… for…"

Beast Boy's voice died on him as he looked around and saw with no small amount of fear that he was somehow back in the bizarre, reality-bending place that was the inside of Raven's mind.

He was back in Nevermore.

"What the fuck?" he snarled. "This isn't funny, Raven!"

"I thought we already established that I'm not the joking type, Beast Boy," the empath's annoyed reply came from behind him. The shape-shifter spun around, finding himself faced with the original Raven and all the incarnations of her emotions, apart from the red, wrathful one.

"We're in my world now," Raven continued calmly, "and so we're playing by my rules. If you ever want to get out of here, I suggest you drop the tough-guy act right now; it's irritating the hell out of me."

When Beast Boy fell silent, Raven assumed that she'd pushed him into a nice, familiar corner and that he'd soon bow his head, apologize and walk away with his tail between his legs. Which was exactly why she didn't recognize the signs of the fury bubbling up behind the shape-shifter's eyes until it had boiled over the edge and exploded.

"An act?" he began, quietly at first, but gaining force with every word and never losing the lethal edge of his tone. "You think this is an act, Raven? Are you serious?"

The empath arched a skeptical eyebrow, ignorant of the bomb she was a few poorly-chosen words away from setting off.

"Are you telling me it isn't?" she parried. "I know you, Beast Boy. This is just a defense mechanism to help you deal with your grief. It isn't really you—"

"Yes, it _is_ me, Raven!" Beast Boy shouted back, all of the sadness and self-loathing and anger he'd been trying to keep under control finally snapping. "I've just finally decided to grow up, because the old me isn't going to fucking cut it anymore! Think about what's happened: our home is a ruin, Cyborg is dead, his body is being used for god-knows-what, Robin's dead too and Slade has complete control of Jump City while we're stuck here, trying to find shelter in Gotham like blind rats!

"Don't you see, Raven?" Beast Boy continued, now almost within arms-reach of the empath as the rest of her personalities scattered to the four winds in the face of the shape-shifter's outburst. "Slade and his allies, they finally decided to drop the hammer on us for good, and we weren't ready. They caught us by surprise, and we paid for it. Big time.

"We've already lost two of the Titans, Raven," Beast Boy finished with a sigh, his voice softening as the strength of his anger slowly ebbed away from him. "I've already lost Terra, and I'll be damned if I lose someone else I care about just because I wasn't strong enough to protect you." He reached out and took her hands lightly in his, a silent promise that he sealed with a single, reassuring squeeze.

Raven had no words to reply to such an unexpected outpouring, and so she found herself in the mortifying position of having been rendered speechless with shock by _Beast Boy_, of all people. Maybe things really had changed.

"Well, that was very touching and all," a slithering, malicious voice broke in that sounded like Raven having an incredibly bad day, "but don't the two of you have somewhere else to be right now?"

The pair snapped their heads around in unison to behold the red-cloaked Raven that was the embodiment of Trigon's influence hovering in the air, four eyes glowing and black energy surging out from all around her. Before either of the Titans could react, dark tendrils had snaked around their midsections. Two powerful shocks later, Beast Boy and Raven found themselves back in the real world, short of breath and more than a little shaken.

"What the…" Raven managed to get out. "She—she kicked me out of my own head, _and_ forcefully teleported both of us through my soul-self. How is that even possible?"

"I don't know that any more than you do, Raven," Beast Boy answered, his voice as calm as Raven's was disturbed. "But I do know something else."

"Which is?"

A small smile crept over the shape-shifter's face, and for a fleeting moment it was like they were back in Titans' Tower and he was waiting for her to laugh at an incredibly corny joke.

"You beat whatever that thing is once before," Beast Boy said quietly but confidently, not wanting to be overheard, "and I'm sure you can do it again."

Raven gave a small smile of her own at that, but it was quickly erased as the four travelers finally came to the iron door that marked their destination. Shiva knocked sharply on the metal, and a few seconds later a slat opened to reveal a pair of eyes.

"Name of the sleeping dragon?"

"Ibn Al Xu'ffasch," Shiva replied evenly, and the slat closed again before the door swung open with a weary creak, revealing a long set of stairs going down into the pit of Gotham's underground. The sentry ninja stepped aside and Shiva moved swiftly by him, the three Titans wordlessly following her lead. The staircase snaked down and around, leading into rusty catwalks and outright gaps between grated platforms, before the path arrived at a large double-door. It was made of high-quality, reinforced steel, and a picture of a demon's head was engraved deep into the metal.

"Here we are," Shiva said, a smile on her face as the door swung open. It revealed a huge, almost cavernous room that seemed to be a gigantic dojo, packed with martial artists and people dressed in classic ninja garb, all training in weapons combat or unarmed styles. But Starfire's eyes were drawn at once to the cluster of holes near the far wall that housed red, roiling liquid:

The Lazarus Pits.

"Welcome to the League of Shadows."

* * *

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**A/N:** Hope you enjoyed the chapter, and **please review**. It lets me know people are digging the story and keeps me fired up to continue with it. Sorry about the cliffhanger, but I didn't want this chapter to run long like the previous one did, so I figured I'd cut it off there. Next chapter will see some new faces, the attempt to revive Robin from the dead and some old secrets finally coming to light.

See you then!


	3. Risen

**Brotherhood**

**Chapter 3: **Risen

* * *

"This place is massive," Beast Boy said with awe as he looked around the spacious room where some of the League of Shadows' soldiers were training. "Just how many people do you have working for you, ma'am?"

"Enough," Shiva answered simply, before she began to walk away and motioned for the Titans to follow her. They skirted the edge of the cavern and made their way over to the Lazarus Pits, where a new figure came out of the nearby shadows to greet them. It was a woman with dark brown eyes, and hair of the same color that framed her slender face. She seemed to the Titans to be quite similar to Shiva, but Raven could tell that this new woman's killing intent was of a much more insidious type than Shiva's straightforward power.

"Lady Talia," Shiva greeted the newcomer with a slight incline of her head, a gesture Talia returned with respect. "I was wondering if you would be here. Where's the prince?"

"Damian?" Talia Al Ghul asked, a clear hint of frustration in her voice. "He's still out on a mission, despite the fact that I issued a recall order days ago. Honestly, I thought he would want to be here for this."

"You really thought I would miss it?" a new voice broke in from above. Those gathered around the Lazarus Pit looked up to find a figure crouched on the guardrail of a catwalk, who promptly leaped down to join them and landed on the hard ground with catlike grace. It was a boy who looked to be about Robin's age, with the same hard eyes as Talia and in possession of an even deadlier killing intent. Messy black hair crowned his head, and a sad smile spread across his face as he saw Robin's body resting in Starfire's arms.

"So, that idiot actually did manage to get himself killed?" the boy mused, a note of melancholy in his voice. "Too bad. Can't say I didn't warn Grayson that shit would go bad for him if he left us, though."

Beast Boy started forward with a snarl at the offhanded provocation, but Raven blocked him with an arm.

"I do not wish to be rude by interrupting," Starfire spoke up, "but can we not hasten to begin… whatever it is this Pit will do, exactly?"

"Of course," Talia answered with a short nod. "Please forgive my son for his bluntness; he gets it from his father. Shiva, is the Pit ready?"

"It is," Shiva answered, motioning to Starfire and taking the body gently from her hold, moving to lean partway over the mouth of the Pit.

"Before I do this, I should warn you that it isn't within the power of the Lazarus Pits to guarantee a completely successful resurrection. Even if he does come back to life, Richard might not be entirely sane; amnesia is also another possible side effect of the process."

Raven and Beast Boy both held their silence, deferring to Starfire to make the final decision. The Tamaranean paused for a moment, gathering her breath and her strength before speaking.

"I would rather have Robin back, in any form, than have nothing but a corpse and memories. Do whatever you have to in order to bring him back, and I will be in your debt until I can repay you for your efforts."

"Heavy words, child," Shiva said as she lowered Robin's limp form into the liquid, "and yet, they do not seem to burden you."

"I wouldn't expect them to," another foreign voice joined in, its tone smooth and eloquent. "The duty of making grave decisions does not weigh down the hearts of royalty."

Those gathered around the Pit followed the voice and saw an older man standing partly in the shadows, with silvery hair and one blue eye exposed to the light.

"Father," Talia said with a smile as Ra's Al Ghul moved forward to appraise the Titans more closely. "How nice of you to join us."

"But of course, my dear," Ra's parried easily, looking from Starfire to Raven to Beast Boy and back again. "It would be abominably bad manners for the lord not to come and greet his guests personally. Although it does pain me that we had to meet under such circumstances, Titans, it is a pleasure to finally do so. And I can see quite clearly that Robin's leadership has made each of you into a more-than-capable warrior: I would expect nothing less from the protégé of my heir.

"Shiva, Talia," the leader of the League of Shadows continued, changing his tone from welcoming to serious, "come with me; there is a matter we must discuss. Damian, be a good host and look after our guests until Robin is finished rejuvenating in the Lazarus Pit."

"Yes, sir," Damian replied with a distinct lack of enthusiasm, brown eyes rolling once in disdain before he sighed and turned to the trio of Titans.

"C'mon," he said, "I'll show you to one of the common rooms."

Starfire, Beast Boy and Raven followed Damian through a few doors and some hallways before finally ending in a room roughly the size the main room of Titans Tower had been. Mats were arranged on the floor in a circle, and a lone table with a pair of bottles on it sat at the circle's center.

"Make yourselves at home," Damian said apathetically as he sat down cross-legged on a mat. "By the way, where's that cyborg friend of yours?"

"He's dead," Beast Boy replied flatly, fire smoldering in his eyes. "And if you don't hold your freaking tongue, you'll be joining him shortly."

Damian smirked, his own eyes flashing briefly with mischief.

"What, I pull your asses out of the fire and this is all the thanks I get?" he asked with mock indignation. "I should've left you all to get crisped by Chang, clearly."

"What?" Starfire exclaimed, shocked. "How do you know of that fight? Who are you, and why did you claim to have saved us?"

"My name is Damian Wayne, cutie," the prince of the League of Shadows said smugly as he snaked a hand behind his back, pulling out a tube of red liquid and holding it up to the light,

"But I think you know me best as Red X."

* * *

"So, what is it you wished to speak with us about, sir?" Shiva asked as soon as she, Talia and Ra's were alone in Ra's' own private quarters. "Is there a target that needs disposing of?"

"Yes, Shiva, there in fact is," Ra's answered calmly, "but you won't be doing any of the disposing; I thought I would leave that to your pupil. Seeing as how Damian is your son, however, Talia, I also thought it best to ask your opinion as to his fitness to undertake another mission so soon after this most recent one."

"That depends on the target, father," Talia said. "If it's someone on the level of Poison Ivy or The Joker, absolutely not. A target on par with The Penguin or Killer Croc, though, would be well within Damian's competency."

"I would say that this target falls squarely into the latter camp," Ra's replied. "Have you heard of the Black Hood?"

Talia shook her head. "Who is he, the Red Hood's apprentice?"

"No," Shiva rebutted, "not quite. The Black Hood is new blood; came to Gotham about two and a half years ago. I tried to convince him to join up with us once, but he was having none of it. He struck me as a real lone wolf, that one."

"And the last thing we want to have on our hands right now is an unemployed freelancer," Ra's concluded. "Batman has agreed to lay off of our operations here for a while as payment for Robin's resurrection, but that ceasefire means nothing to the rest of Gotham's criminals and hired guns."

Talia spent a moment in thought, but eventually nodded her agreement. "Very well, send him. Damian gets stir-crazy after more than a week here, anyway. Some more experience would be good for him, as well."

"Agreed," Shiva said. "Which takes us from the matter of our prince to the matter of our prodigal son. What are we going to do about Richard?"

As if on some perverse cue, a chorus of screams and shouts of alarm sounded out from the main room.

"Looks as though he's up," Talia said casually. "We can talk to him ourselves when his rampage is done. Unless, of course, you'd like to stop him early, Shiva?"

The League's _sensei_ smiled, and she shook her head.

"No," Shiva said, turning and heading for the door to Ra's' quarters. "I'll let him work through his bottled-up hatred himself. Besides, I want to make sure my old student hasn't really gone as soft as I fear he has."

In the large room that housed the Lazarus Pits, a strained growl that quickly escalated into a blood-curdling scream was all the warning that nearby ninja had of their swiftly-approaching deaths. Robin vaulted over the edge of the Pit he'd been submerged in and back onto solid ground, nothing but madness and anger shining in his now-unmasked blue eyes. Charging forward with abandon, his fist smashed pitilessly into the face of the first guard dumb enough to turn around and face him. The blow broke the man's nose and forced the bone fragments up and into his brain, killing him instantly.

But Robin took no notice of that as he moved onto his wrath's next target, his mind shattered by the effects of the Lazarus Pit. All he could feel were his most primal instincts, and being surrounded by dozens of trained, armed assassins jumpstarted the 'fight' side of his 'fight-or-flight' reflex. Drunk on adrenaline, the resurrected Titan snapped one warrior's arm like a twig and wrested the katana from his grip, quickly getting used to the weight of the weapon in his hand before using it to reap even more of the increasingly-hostile enemies that gathered before him.

"It really is such a shame that he chose to leave us," Shiva commented from her place by the room's far wall, melancholy lacing her words. "That boy would have been an incredible asset to us, Talia."

"Yes, he would have been," Talia agreed, "but we both knew that boy's ultimate loyalty lay with Bruce, and no one else. And if he was feeling too claustrophobic to stay directly under Bruce's command, Richard would have chosen to leave Gotham completely and go somewhere else rather than pledge his devotion to someone else. Wayne does have that certain charisma about him, I'll give him that: he might be a stubborn bastard sometimes, but it's almost impossible to turn your back on him."

Ra's watched the youth slash through the horde of soldiers with ease and sighed, remembering the day Robin had announced his intention to part ways with the League for good after his training.

"I'll never understand why he chose a bo-staff as the weapon he wanted to be trained under," Ra's lamented. "That boy was born to wield a sword."

Shiva smiled as she remembered Robin's reasoning, words that he had only let his _sensei_ hear.

"_Because the staff isn't a lethal weapon."_

"He might have been born to use a blade," Shiva countered, "but he was raised to be a protector, and not a pure warrior. Whether that is his greatest weakness or his greatest strength, however, remains to be seen."

Back in the middle of the giant room, Robin was on his knees, straddling an unfortunate ninja and viciously pounding their face into a pulpy mass. Which was when his mind began to become vaguely aware of just what, exactly, he was doing. The first sensation Robin felt was the sticky dampness of the blood that had coated his hands during his brawl, and the first sound to reach his ears was the pitiful, retching death rattle of the person beneath him. Robin groaned and closed his eyes tightly as pain slammed against the inside of his forehead, but soon shook it off and got shakily to his feet. The room spun around him, but not so quickly that he couldn't make out the steadily-advancing and murderous-looking group of ninja as they inched closer to him.

Wait… _ninja_? Wearing that kind of armor? What the hell were ninja… doing… here…

Robin doubled over in pain and clutched his forehead as another stab of pressure spiked up in his skull. He was unable to do anything but wait for the end as the ninja closest to him lifted up their katana high into the air, blade poised for a flawless killing strike.

"Enough!"

The sword froze, and both Robin and the ninja looked over to see the trinity of Ra's Al Ghul, Talia Al Ghul and Lady Shiva watching them keenly; it was almost as if they were daring the warrior to follow through with their attack on Robin. The ninja bowed at once and backed away, while Robin just stood still in shock and tried to put the pieces of this bizarre puzzle together so that things would start making sense. He hadn't set eyes on his old teacher in six years... where was he, and what the hell was he doing here?

The resurgent memory of his last moments and death at Slade's hands answered the question with cruel bluntness, and Robin's eyes gradually came back into focus as he came to the now-obvious conclusion. Looking over at Shiva and trying not to be too concerned by the pleased look on her face, the Titans' leader spoke.

"How many, _sensei_?"

Shiva's smile widened.

"Fourteen, I believe. Not bad for a post-Pit rampage, boy."

Robin said nothing, sighing and looking down at his ragged, dirt-stained uniform.

"You know, for some reason," he mused, "I thought it would be easier the second time."

Ra's laughed.

"It never gets easier, child. Ever. And believe me, I know."

Robin sighed again, turning around and walking towards a nearby door.

"I'm going to get changed," he said. "Where're the rest of my friends?"

"With Damian, in the second common room," Talia replied, and Robin cursed.

"Wonderful," the Titan growled. "Because he's exactly who I want to see right now."

* * *

"So, if you're the heir to the leadership of an insanely powerful group of assassins ready to die for you if you so much as give the word, what the hell were you doing running around Jump City as Red X?"

Damian looked over at Raven and shrugged, taking another pull on the cup of sake he'd poured himself from one of the bottles on the table.

"Because it's fucking boring being here, maybe?" he shot back. "Everyone treats me like I'm made out of glass, Raven. It's totally suffocating."

"Wait a second," Beast Boy broke in, finally connecting the dots in his head from something Damian had mentioned twenty minutes ago, "did you say your last name was 'Wayne'? As in, Bruce 'Wayne Enterprises' Wayne?"

"Yeah," Damian said flatly. "He's my father."

"Then what the hell are you doing skulking around the sewers of Gotham, man?!" Beast Boy pressed him. "Shouldn't you be living in a penthouse somewhere, lighting piles of money on fire just because you can? Someone with as much dough as you on hand shouldn't risk their life being a thief; that's just crazy!"

"And Damian struck you as someone who was sane, Beast Boy?"

Beast Boy's head turned toward the new voice, the other two Titans following suit. When they saw who was standing there, though, the only looks in their eyes were those of confusion.

The speaker was a boy clad in a uniform identical to Damian's, a light karate _gi_ overlaid with pieces of leather armor to cover the chest, shins and shoulders. A _wakizashi_ was fastened to his back, held in a sheath. His hair was somewhat spiky and black, as unruly as the bright, piercing blue shade of his eyes.

"Um, dude," Beast Boy began uncertainly, "do I know you?"

Damian laughed, amused by the effect that such a seemingly simple change had on his old friend and former comrade-in-arms.

"It's about damn time you hauled your lazy ass up out of that Pit, Chuckles."

The three befuddled Titans recognized the nickname as one that Red X had used in the past to describe one of them. When they remembered exactly which one, however, their mouths hit the floor in shock.

"_Robin!?_" all three of them exclaimed at once. The newly revived Titan smiled, laughter visible in his uncovered eyes for the first time since he'd donned on the mask of 'Robin' so many years ago.

"Hey guys," he said. "Sorry for the wai—oof!"

The leader's apology was cut off sharply as Starfire collided with Robin, wrapping him in a fierce hug and kissing him as hard as she could. The embrace lasted for a few moments, before Raven, Beast Boy and Damian looked at each other and came to the mutual decision that the display of affection had gone on long enough.

"Ahem," Beast Boy said as he coughed theatrically, "we're still sitting right here."

"If you need it," Damian chimed in, "there's a room through that door back there and to the right."

The prince had been joking, but Starfire took Damian's words to heart. She broke apart the embrace just long enough to grab a hold of Robin's wrist, before hauling him behind her and out of the room.

"Daaaamn," Beast Boy said in awe, "I've never seen Star like that before. What do you think's gotten into her, Raven?"

"I don't have to think about it," the empath groused, pinching her forehead and wishing she had an amnesia spell. "I could feel Starfire's emotions. All of them. In explicit detail. Suffice to say: thinking that the person you love is dead and then seeing them again in front of you, looking more attractive than they ever have before, does crazy things to your hormones."

"And that's all the information we need to know right now, thanks," Damian broke in hastily, all but jumping to his feet. "While Grayson and his girlfriend are back there doing… whatever it is they might be doing, we should try to be a bit more productive."

"Just what did you have in mind?" Raven asked suspiciously, only succeeding in drawing an equally suspect smile from Damian.

"I overheard my grandfather talking about a mission he was thinking of giving me the other day," the prince explained, his smile widening.

"Of course," he continued, "I would have to clear it with my mother and _sensei_, but would you guys like to come along for the ride?"

* * *

…………………….

……………………………

**A/N:** Hope you enjoyed the chapter! And don't worry, the ramifications of Robin, you know, _killing_ those people is going to be addressed next chapter. **Reviews** are, as always, much appreciated, especially since the low hit-count for this story is downright depressing. Before I get to the glossary for the new Batman-verse character, though, a shout-out is in order.

Mad props go to the reviewer known simply as '**Anon**', for their downright amazing knowledge of the DC universe and almost unsettling knack for knowing where the plot is going to head next (Nice job calling Damian showing up, for example). But since their reviews are anonymous, I can't reply to them normally. Which is a damn shame. So Anon, if you're reading this, it would be awesome if you could get an account and remedy that. Also, stop reading my mind.

And now, onto the glossary!

**Damian Wayne:** Son of Talia Al Ghul and Bruce Wayne (**Batman**). Heir to the throne of the League of Shadows, and trained in their ways since childhood.

Note: I know I messed with continuity a bit, as technically Richard 'Dick' Grayson is much older than Damian in the comics, but sacrifices must be made from time to time.


	4. Reflections

**Brotherhood**

**Chapter 4: **Reflections

* * *

Robin lay flat on his back, bare chest exposed to the light breeze, looking hazily up at the wooden planks of the room's ceiling and not quite sure what to think. Part of him was still reeling from his resurrection, and a whole different part of him had been completely upended by what he and Starfire had just done. They'd made love twice before, but neither of those experiences had been anything like this. There had been a sense of need in her that Robin had never seen in her, almost like Starfire had been afraid that he would disappear again if she'd let go of him.

Pushing aside his guilt at letting himself even get killed in the first place, Robin rolled back over onto his side and wrapped his arms around Starfire, holding her against him. The Tamaranean didn't say anything for what felt like minutes, until she'd finally worked up the nerve to admit the truth to both herself and to the young man lying next to her.

"I was scared," she said softly, just above a whisper. "I was so scared when I saw your body just lying there, on the floor of the Tower—I thought I would never…" here she paused, losing her momentum. "I am sorry, Robin; you must think I am weak, I suppose."

Robin turned Starfire around in his arms, waiting until they were face-to-face again before shaking his head.

"I know you're not weak, Star," he gently admonished her. "You're one of the strongest people I know. _I'm_ the one who should be apologizing here, for making you feel that pain. I know how much it hurts to lose someone you care about, and you should never have had to go through that because of me."

Starfire could only silently wonder at the emotions that flashed so freely across Robin's face and eyes as he spoke. She had never seen him so honest or vulnerable before, and she could tell that he was suffering from the same pangs of guilt that she was.

"You said just now that you know the pain of losing someone close to you, Robin," the Tamaranean began slowly, watching his eyes carefully for any hint of uneasiness. "If you do not mind me asking, of whom were you speaking?"

Robin fell silent at the question and stayed that way for several moments, until Starfire sighed and shook her head.

"If you do not wish to talk about it," she said, hoping to keep the regret at not discovering more about him out of her voice, "that is fine as well, Robin."

"No."

The Tamaranean's expression became confused at the clipped answer.

"What?"

"No," Robin repeated, stronger this time. "I need to tell someone, and if I can't bring myself to open up to you, who else could I possibly talk to? It's a bit of a long story, though," he warned, "so it might take me a while to get through it all."

Starfire smiled warmly, and Robin felt all of his insecurities melting away. Why had he ever doubted, even for a second, that she would accept and understand him in spite of his past?

"Take all the time you need, Robin," she said encouragingly, pulling him into a hug and resting her head against his shoulder with a contented sigh. "I am not going anywhere."

Robin smiled at her words, before closing his eyes and allowing his darkest memories to come flooding back into the forefront of his mind.

"It all started right here in Gotham," he began. "Eleven years ago, when I was just eight, almost nine years old. My mother, my father and I were a traveling acrobatic act known as the 'Flying Graysons.' We'd travel around Gotham and some of the smaller outlying cities, doing what we loved and making enough to get by in the meantime. For a couple of years, life was great, and we were happy.

"But I was too young and naïve back then to realize that Gotham eventually corrupted everything it touched, no matter how pure or innocent that thing might have been. Eventually, we became well-enough known that a legitimate circus offered to sponsor us as a stable act. Naturally, my family and I jumped at the chance: instead of just skating by, we could actually have the opportunity to live comfortably. Well, as comfortably as someone who wasn't filthy rich or a crime kingpin could live in Gotham, anyway. What all of us failed to see, though, was that this particular circus was under the umbrella of a wide, organized crime extortion racket. And the owner had been especially tardy on paying his dues to some very powerful, very dangerous people.

"One night, the owner was visited by a few low-rung thugs under the control of a mobster named Tony Zucco. I overheard them trying to pressure the owner into giving them the money he owed to Zucco, but he said no way. The next performance was two nights later. My parents were up doing some basic tricks on a high wire, when it happened.

"Someone had sabotaged the wire's anchors and the safety net underneath it, and my parents both fell right through to the ground. They died on impact."

Robin paused there as his voice caught, and Starfire waited patiently for him to continue.

"Back then, I didn't know who'd pulled off the hit," Robin began again after a few more heartbeats of silence, "and in the chaos that followed the 'accident', I almost got trampled by the crowd as they scrambled to get out. When I came back later on, my parents' bodies were both gone, most likely dumped in the river to hide the evidence of the crime. The circus owner showed up floating by the docks with a bullet in his forehead a few days later, and Zucco had the circus itself burned to the ground after he'd put himself in a position to collect the insurance money from it."

"What did you do then?" Starfire asked, and Robin gave a bitter chuckle.

"What I had to," he answered. "Picked some pockets, palmed some fruit from outdoor stalls. Survived. As fate would have it, one of the people I marked one time was Bruce Wayne. He caught me red-handed, but recognized my face from some of the newspaper articles on the circus incident and decided to take me in. Guess he thought we had enough in common that I could help him fight crime here in Gotham, which is how I became Robin. It's also how I wound up here for the first time, in a way."

Starfire's eyes widened slightly at the revelation.

"You have been here before?"

Robin nodded. "I was here training from the time I was twelve to when I was sixteen, Starfire; I came out to Jump City looking for a fresh start after I'd learned all I could from my teachers here."

The Tamaranean opened her mouth to ask another question, but was cut off as Robin rolled away from her and got up from the bed.

"Come on," he said, back in his leader persona, "let's get dressed; there're some questions I want to ask Ra's."

Starfire sighed in resignation, but her attention was re-captured as the dim light in the room illuminated a myriad of battle scars on Robin's back, both large and small. Most of them had turned white and almost invisible with age, but a few retained their darker color, refusing to be forgotten. Feeling something surge up from within her that compelled her to speak, Starfire swallowed her misgivings and did so.

"Robin," she said seriously, grabbing his attention enough that his head turned back over his shoulder to face her, "I cannot claim to know everything of your past, even with what you have just told me. But whatever you might have done during your time here, good or evil, I want you to know that I will not judge you for it. My people are a warrior race, and several of our rites of passage involve brutal tests of strength. I myself have taken part in some of these out of necessity, and my hands have taken their share of lives.

"But I believe that it is the actions we take that define who we are, and I have seen you perform many acts of kindness and courage. I just want you to know that if you were planning on asking me for forgiveness for not revealing sooner some past sin you committed, know that I give it to you freely. I do not love the person you might have been in the past, Robin," she finished, getting up as well and facing him eye-to-eye, "but instead, I love the person I see standing before me right now."

Robin turned the rest of the way around and smiled; a true, unguarded smile that let Starfire know without a doubt that he felt the same way about her. He closed the distance between them in a step and kissed her, conveying more tenderness and love in that one gesture than Starfire had ever felt from him before.

"I love you, too," he whispered in her ear. "But we should really get going, or I don't know if we'll leave this room at all today."

"And that would be a bad thing?" the Tamaranean shot back teasingly, running one of her hands lightly down Robin's chest. The other Titan could only groan as she grazed the weak spot only she knew about.

"You're really not helping," he protested with as much strength as he could, which wasn't very much at all. Starfire relented with light laughter, backing away from him.

"Very well," she acquiesced. "I will follow your lead this time, Robin, but I expect compensation in the future."

Robin caught the implication in her words, smirking as he got dressed in his new League uniform that Starfire had previously scattered around the room.

"I'm sure we can work something out, Star."

* * *

Damian walked through the halls back to the main room with a sure, confident stride, flanked by Raven and Beast Boy.

"So, if we were to go along with you on this mission of yours, which I'm _not_ saying we necessarily will," Raven spoke, "what exactly would we be going after?"

"Not 'what', Raven," Damian back, "_who_. I'm not stealing anything this time; this is a reconnaissance mission. I'm supposed to track down some hotshot assassin and figure out why the hell he's so dead-set on being a free agent. Best case scenario, I can convince them to join up with the League and we all go home happy."

"And the worst case?" Beast Boy immediately followed up, eyes narrowed as he searched Damian's face for the information he was certain the other warrior wasn't telling him. Damian just smirked, totally unmoved by the provocation.

"If push comes to shove, I'm more than happy to shove that bastard's punk ass right off of a roof," Damian asserted. "Hopefully, though, we'll avoid that. An ally is better for business than a corpse, after all."

"But of course," Raven deadpanned, refraining from any other snarky rejoinders as the trio finally came back into the large main room. The scene in front of them made Raven cover her open mouth in shock, while Beast Boy stood stone silent, struggling to process what he was seeing. Damian, on the other hand, was completely unfazed, merely letting out a slow, admiring whistle.

"He took down 14 of them when he came out? Damn, even _I_ have to admit that's pretty impressive, all things considered."

Raven was the first of the two Titans to put the pieces together, and her eyes opened even wider.

"No—" she breathed out in disbelief, shaking her head. "No, you can't be serious. _Robin_ did this?"

"Yes, he did," Talia broke in smoothly, walking over to join the trio. "And it was quite the virtuoso performance, in fact. Even made me slightly nostalgic."

"But Robin would never kill someone!" Beast Boy exclaimed, springing to his leader's defense at once. "Beat them up something fierce, maybe, but he always made a point to never kill anyone! He's not a murderer like any of you are!"

Talia gave a pointed smile at the shape-shifter's blissful ignorance, drawing in a calming breath before speaking.

"The Lazarus Pit has a way of unleashing the worst instincts in a person for a few moments, after they come out of it," she explained. "I've always seen it as a type of balancing, taking a few lives in exchange for the person who just managed to dodge the Reaper. But let me ask you a question, Garfield Logan:

"How many innocent bystanders do you think the heroics of you and your Titan friends kill or maim every time you combat a criminal?"

Beast Boy's mouth set in a grim frown, his eyes narrowing in anger and suspicion.

"How do you know my name?" he half-hissed, but Talia ignored the question.

"Just tell me that much, Garfield: how many lives do you think your collateral damage claims every single mission?" she pressed, her voice increasing in force as she went on. "Every building you knock over is someone's office, or someone's apartment. Every piece of debris from those collisions flies somewhere, boy. Tell me, do you ever go back to look at the havoc your 'heroism' causes? How many mangled bodies get zipped up in bags because you Titans were too busy causing massive property damage to worry about the people being trampled beneath your feet?

"Before you go calling us murderers, Garfield," Talia finished, her voice sharp and pitiless, "take a look at how dirty your own hands are."

Her rebuke might as well have been a dagger rammed into Beast Boy's ribcage. The shape-shifter felt himself slipping into shock as his mind subconsciously recalled all the times he'd attacked an enemy in some monstrous form, unconcerned about the City around him as he rampaged. Talia was right: how many people had he unthinkingly trampled or broken, how many lives had he ruined just because he'd tried to go for maximum power with his transformations? Oh god, she was right: he was no better than Cinderblock, or Plasmus, or any other mindless brute who just lived to smash things into tiny pieces and fragments.

It was like Mallah had said, on top of the Tower that night. Without his fury, Beast Boy was nothing.

_Nothing._

_Never again… it never happens again...  
_

"Beast Boy, snap out of it! Beast Boy!"

Raven's concerned voice shouting at him was the last thing the shape-shifter heard before he passed out from the stress and exhaustion. A brief image of that face, of those violet eyes, wide with concern, the last things he saw before his vision swam and world faded to black.

_She's so beautiful… _

* * *

Raven felt herself begin to panic as Beast Boy hit the floor, his eyes closed and unmoving: it reminded her far too much of the moments on the roof of Titans' Tower when she'd thought he had died. Her heart clenched up again in fear of the nightmare becoming reality, until she felt a pulse move at his neck and slowly forced herself to relax.

"I guess I overdid it," Talia remarked coolly as she saw the results of her tirade. "Oh well, it's probably for the best; that kid needed a reality check anyway."

As he watched Raven's fists clench tighter and tighter in response to his mother's remark, Damian had never been happier to have the experience he'd gained working as Red X. He knew that Raven was quickly approaching the point of no return: if he didn't act fast, his mother was going to be joining the corpses of the dead ninja on the floor very soon. Swiftly moving in between the two women, he put his hands on Raven's shoulders and looked her dead in the eyes.

"Raven," he said firmly, "it's not worth it. Trust me when I say this. I know you probably want to rip her head off right now, but if you do that I can _guarantee you_ that Beast Boy won't live to see the sun rise tomorrow. Just calm down; if you need some air, come with me on this recon mission. I'm sure it'll be a breeze, and we can worry about Beast Boy once we get back."

The enraged empath slowly came back to herself, the black energy that had begun to crackle around her eyes disappearing completely. But her anger was still simmering, and Raven gave Damian a hard, level look before speaking in an equally stern tone.

"Will he be safe here?"

Damian heard the next words loud and clear in his mind, spoken in a ragged, jagged, demonic voice and meant for him and him alone:

"_If anything happens to him, I will rip you limb from limb and feed your body to the dogs."_

Barely succeeding at keeping his expression even, Damian nodded seriously.

"He'll be fine, Raven; I promise," he swore, standing up and pulling the empath to her feet along with him. "Now, can we get out of here before you snap and accidentally kill someone?"

Raven blinked once at the question and her pupils dilated wide as she groaned in pain, like she was coming back to herself after an out-of-body experience.

"Yeah," she said after a moment, her voice back to normal. She moved Damian's hands off of her shoulders and focused to the extent that she could at the moment, drawing out her soul-self. "Let's get out of here."

The pair of them were wrapped in the giant black raven's wings and vanished as it did, re-emerging above ground in the slums of Gotham just as the sun was beginning to set.

"Stay alert," Damian warned as he began to move, going towards where the Black Hood had last been sighted lurking around. "Nighttime is when this place really goes to hell."

Raven nodded at the advice and followed, but the only things on her mind were Beast Boy's unconscious form and the way her Rage had so easily wrenched control from her after Talia's little speech. Why was it getting so damn hard to keep that sliver of Trigon under control?

_Because my Master is moving again, Raven,_ the dark, hungry voice spoke out from inside the core of Raven's soul,

_And he's coming for you._

* * *

**A/N:** Hope you enjoyed this latest chapter! And a _massive Thank You_ goes out to everyone who reviewed last chapter; the spike in support was awesome and really meant a lot. Thanks again to all you guys and gals; you rock. How's about we keep the trend going, eh? Eh?

And now, onto your regularly scheduled Author's Note!

I figured I'd throw in some good old Rob/Star happiness, seeing as how the Boy Wonder could most definitely use some TLC. And I know I'm putting Beast Boy through the wringer right now, but there's a method to my madness; I really am going somewhere with this.

Next chapter, Damian and Raven track down the Black Hood, and then things get complicated. Also, Beast Boy makes a major decision and the Brotherhood begins to move back in Jump City.


	5. Shadows of the Past

**Brotherhood**

**Chapter 5: **Shadows of the Past

* * *

"Jesus," Raven said as she levitated to circumvent the fifth drug-infested shanty they'd come across in the last half-hour. "This place couldn't be any more decrepit if it tried. No wonder Robin got out of here as soon as he could."

Damian leaped nimbly from tin rooftops to wooden ones, easily keeping up the empath's pace. It was liberating to be free from the Red X armor and in civilian clothes for once; not only did he move faster, but it kept him from getting overconfident in the abilities of the Xynothium that powered the suit.

"I don't know about that, Raven," he countered, hand-springing smoothly over a gap in a rotten pair of wooden beams without missing a beat. "I think you and Robin are just looking at this from the wrong angle. Gotham's slum district is the haven for fiends, rapists, murderers, drug addicts and whores by the dozens, true. But if crime is your business, there's no other place on the East Coast where business booms quite like it does here in Gotham."

"And you're fine with just trafficking in human lives like that?" Raven countered sharply, feeling disgusted. "Haven't you ever thought about helping people instead?"

Damian sighed wearily, crouching for a moment on the rusted steeple of a ruin that had once been the neighborhood's chapel. The new vantage point offered him a much better view of the surroundings, and he swept his eyes from side to side over the rotting landscape below him.

"You sound like my father, Raven," Damian said after a moment, his voice hard and devoid of its usual abrasive cockiness. "He would always tell me stuff like that, the few times he would actually bother to come and see me. 'You should be helping others,' he'd say, or 'What's the point of ruling a city if the only people you're ruling over are pimps and serial killers?'; that was another one of his favorites. And you wanna know something for nothing, Raven? One time, I actually did give the Good Samaritan thing a try. Found this girl on the corner, overdosed on some cheap, back alley heroin rip-off. Mary, she said her name was.

"I picked her up and got her to a hospital, even came back to check on her from time-to-time in between my missions to make sure she was doing all right. It felt good, I will say that much."

"So what happened, then?" Raven pressed, trying to push Damian out of his sudden silence.

"She got out of the rehab program the hospital had enrolled her in a few weeks later, with a clean start courtesy of the Wayne Foundation's anti-drug program. But there're some things not even the Wayne name can get around, and having no real-world skills to speak of and track marks up and down both of your arms are pretty good ways to make sure no one in their right mind would ever, _ever_ hire you for a nine-to-five job. So I convinced my father to take her on as a menial employee in the lower levels of the Wayne business, and I figured that would be enough. But soon enough, the skeletons in Mary's closet came calling.

"Her boyfriend found out where she was living and managed to sweet-talk his way back into Mary's life, despite me snapping one of his arms almost in half and breaking his jaw. She even stepped in front of me and _stood up_ for the cocksucker, if you can believe that. A few days later she was back on the spike, and a week later she'd been kicked back out on that same corner again. Last I saw of her, a rat was picking the muscles off of her bones. Face it, Raven," he finished, leaping from the steeple and landing with poise on a nearby rooftop,

"Some people just don't give a flying fuck what happens to them, and will keep on chasing the dragon until it kills 'em. And if they're going to die anyway, I say it's a waste to not make some money off of them before it happens."

Raven held her retort back on the tip of her tongue, instead wondering with pity just what Damian had been put through to wind up seeming so nihilistic. Robin had grown up in Gotham as well, from what little she'd heard of her leader's past, and his outlook could not have been more different from Damian's.

"Hang on," Damian's voice broke in to Raven's thoughts, stopping the empath in her tracks. "I think we've found him."

Raven stopped and looked where his finger was pointing, seeing a figure in a black, hooded cloak walking along the ground and towards the dim light seeping out from between the boarded-up windows of a bar. Before she descended to the ground, though, Raven's senses picked up another person just on her periphery.

They'd been tailed here, and by someone good enough to avoid detection all this time. Instantly concerned, the empath opened up a quick connection with Damian's mind in order to speak without words.

"_There's someone following us," _she told him. _"I'm going to find out who they are. Do you think you can take the Black Hood alone?"_

Damian met her concern with a simple smirk.

"_Who d'you think you're talking to, Raven?"_ he quipped back through the connection. _"Do what you need to, and keep this line open while you're at it. I'll be in touch."_

Raven gave a short nod and the pair split up, Damian touching down silently on the ground with another leap while Raven stayed airborne, trying to pinpoint that intrusive presence she'd felt just moments ago. It was like trying to get a grip on something covered in oil: every moment she thought she'd found the source, it would flit away and pop up somewhere else. As if it was taunting her.

"Taunting?" A strangely familiar voice spoke out from the darkness, creeping through the rough shadows to increase Raven's already-rising unease. "Come now; 'taunt' is such a base word to use. This is much more like a game, in my mind. Do you not enjoy games, sweet Raven?"

The nickname helped her to place the voice to a face, and the face to a name. Rather than be shocked or scared, however, the only thing Raven felt was anger. Raw, boiling anger that was just a few moments from sweeping away her restraints completely.

"Is that really you, Malchior?" she asked, her voice quiet but fiercely focused. A lilting laugh was her reward, and the dragon himself floated out from the shadows... in the form of the human, white-haired, cowl-wearing wizard Rorek. Only one other thing was different from their past encounter, apart from the fact that Malchior seemed no longer bound to the pages of his Book in any way: the red, runic Mark of Scath was emblazoned in the center of his forehead, glowing menacingly in the dark.

"What's wrong, Raven?" Malchior asked flippantly, unconcerned with her anger. "Still holding a grudge against me, after all of this time?"

As Raven scrambled to put the pieces together of how this was even happening, she decided to keep her old enemy talking to buy herself some much-needed time.

"How did you get out of that portal Herald trapped you in, you bastard?" she pressed, flames of black energy already dancing in her palms. "And don't try to screw with me; I've had a really crappy couple of days, and trust me when I say you do _not_ want to see me get angry."

Malchior smiled behind his cowl, his light-blue eyes glinting with malicious mirth.

"On the contrary, dear Raven," he countered, "that is _exactly_ what I want to see."

The white-haired young man disappeared in a flash, the movement so sudden that even Raven's enhanced perception couldn't pick it up. The next thing she felt was a hand resting on her shoulder, and the empath spun around just in time to see Malchior's face barely inches away from her own. The cowl was removed from his face, and an almost predatory smirk danced about the corners of his mouth.

"Your father sends his regards, Raven," he whispered, before moving with snake-like quickness and closing the space between them, placing his lips on top of Raven's own in a forceful kiss. The empath's eyes went wide as the unexpected contact—her first kiss—sent her emotional controls completely haywire. Her heart began to pound rapidly against her ribs, only serving to further heighten her instability. Indignation warred with Confusion, which in turn grappled fiercely with newly-awakened and undiscerning Lust. All of these petty emotions, however, were dwarfed and utterly trounced as Rage surged into the fray, obliterating all rational thought.

_That bastard._

_How __**dare**__ he._

_Rend his flesh. Feast upon his soul as you draw it out of his bleeding carcass!_

_Send him screaming into hell and eternal torment!_

_**Kill him!**_

Raven was helpless to resist the crushing tide of her instinctive rage, her eyes turning blood red and gaining another pair above them as Trigon's long-dormant will once again claimed sovereignty over Raven's body. Malchior grunted in pain as he was forced away by lashing whips of dark energy, but the attack didn't provoke him in the slightest. Rather, his smile widened as he licked a drop of blood off of his chin, his eyes glinting even brighter.

"There's the Raven I've been waiting to see," he said with admiration. "Making a pact with your accursed father was worth it just to witness this much power, I must say."

"_Take a good look, then,"_ Raven rasped, her voice twisted and distorted by Rage's influence. _"Because this is the last thing you're ever going to see, you scrap of filth."_

Malchior chuckled and ignited a fireball in each of his hands to match the energy that had surged up once again around Raven, hurling the flaming projectiles at her before vanishing again in a flash. Raven dodged and weaved past the two attacks, locking on to Malchior's energy signature like a bloodhound and shooting off further into the night.

She didn't even slow down as she felt the connection she'd made with Damian get severed under the strain, her mind completely dominated by Rage and utterly focused on destroying the enemy.

* * *

Damian walked into the bar, relieved that it was relatively empty. His target was sitting at a corner table with their back to the wall, perfectly positioned to see anyone who might be coming in to or going out of the bar. Even if it had been pretty easy to track this punk down, Damian had to admit that he was no slouch at tactics. Having no reason to hide who or what he was, the League of Shadows' prince walked over confidently and sat down across from the Black Hood.

"I've heard of you," he opened simply enough, and the person hidden beneath the hood chuckled.

"I've heard of you, too, Damian Wayne," they parried lightly. "What's your point?"

The voice that spoke was surprisingly feminine, but dangerous at the same time. In a word, Damian found it enticing, and he was never one to walk away from that.

"Not that many people have faced down Lady Shiva and lived to tell about it," he replied gamely, holding up one open-palmed hand and lightly waving his fingers. "In fact, I could count them all on this hand, if I wanted to. You included. And that makes me very, very interested in knowing exactly how you did it."

The Black Hood laughed again, and Damian was now absolutely certain that the person he was dealing with was not a man, but a woman. Hopefully, she would turn out to be a young woman near his age; it had been way too long since he'd found someone capable of keeping up with him, and the pent-up energy was starting to get to him.

"Buy the next two rounds," the Hood said in a low voice that made the hairs on the back of Damian's neck stand up in anticipation, "and I'll tell you anything you want to know."

Damian knew in the back of his mind that this chick, whoever she was, was already setting up some kind of ploy. You didn't grow up with a pair semi-immortal crime lords for teachers without learning when to spot a gambit in action, after all. But all the same, he judged it best to let the chips fall where they would, and smiled as if he suspected nothing at all.

"Done," Damian said, motioning to a nearby waitress. "Double Jack and Coke for me," he began, "and my friend will be having…?"

"The same," the Black Hood filled in, a smirk to her voice. "So," she continued a moment later, "what exactly do you want to know?"

Damian's brown eyes glinted sharply in the dim light.

"Why don't we start with a face and a name, and go from there?"

A pair of slender hands reached up to the hood and pulled it back, exposing a face that Damian found at once familiar and completely unknown.

"The name's Komand'r," she said, a pair of dark purple eyes shining brightly out from between the long bangs of black hair that framed them as she smiled mischievously,

"But you can just call me Blackfire."

* * *

Raven stopped dead in midair, her pursuit of Malchior cut short abruptly as her other, rational side began to fight back for control against her primal rage. Doubled over and with all four eyes shut in strain, the manifestation of Trigon's demonic power fought for control of Raven's body despite her protests.

"_Let… me… __**go**__!"_

The push from within as the rational Raven tried to retake her mind was incredibly intense, backed by every single other one of those damn facets that lived in Nevermore. But Rage was stronger than them. She carried within her the fire of Trigon himself, and the unbending, unyielding force of his destruction. She would not give in, and she would not surrender control of this body. Not after she had spent so long alone, in exile, in the cold, lifeless corners of Nevermore. No longer would anyone else impose their wills upon her, lock her away in a cage.

"_Enough!" _Rage bellowed, forcibly quelling the protests of her former mistress and grinding them into dust. From now on, Raven would know what it was like to languish in a cage. From now on, Rage would impose her will upon anything and everything that dared to deny her right to exist.

Starting with that green-skinned, pointy-eared little punk that had helped to shackle her in Nevermore so many years ago.

From his perch on a flat, concrete rooftop not too far from where the battle for control of Raven's mind and body had just concluded, Malchior allowed himself a pleased smile. Mission done, he disappeared once more, off to report the latest development to his master back in Jump City.

No doubt, things were about to get a lot more interesting.

* * *

…………

…………………

**A/N:** Okay, so I didn't have the space in this chapter to get to Beast Boy's current situation, and for that I apologize. I just realized the chapter ended better here and made a better segue into the next chapter this way, so I cut it off here. But rest assured, Beast Boy will be the main focus of the next chapter, alongside Damian and Blackfire's developing situation.

That said, I hope you still enjoyed the chapter, and **reviews** are as welcome as ever. The support so far has really been great, and a huge 'Thank You' goes out once again to everyone who has reviewed so consistently, namely **ImmortalPhantom22**, **Wolvmbm, anon** and **Dwarg91**. You guys rock.


	6. Fear Itself

**Brotherhood**

**Chapter 6: **Fear Itself

* * *

Beast Boy sat up feeling like he'd just been hit by a truck, his head woozy and a bitter taste lingering in the back of his mouth.

"About time you showed up, asshole."

The voice was bitter and caustic, but underneath all of that Beast Boy still recognized it as his own. Shaking his head to clear it and looking over, the shape-shifter was faced with a mirror image of himself, except one that looked far more bestial. It was the huge, imposing form of his Inner Beast, the one he had taken on when that recombinant DNA had infected his bloodstream.

And it was locked behind the thick, steel bars of some kind of cage, separated from the rest of the white room that housed just it and the shape-shifter.

But wait, Beast Boy thought. What was he doing in a white room? Where the hell _was_ he?

"That doesn't really matter right now, kid," the Beast said gruffly, arms pulling away at the steel bars to no avail. "What you need to do is get me the fuck out of this damn cage you put me in just now, and then we'll talk."

"I did that?" Beast Boy asked, and his eyes widened slowly as realization dawned on him and he remembered what had happened just before he passed out.

"So you get it now, eh?" the Beast sneered, its seemingly blank white eyes narrowing in spite. "You couldn't handle me, so you locked me away like the coward you are."

"That's not true!" the shape-shifter bellowed back, charging up to the bars of the cage and looking the Beast dead in the face with a snarl. "You're the one causing all of my problems. You're the one that makes me lose control!"

"Oh, so it's all _my_ fault, is it?" the Beast parried, never losing the sneer. "In case you haven't figured it out, Sherlock, I'm part of you. I'm your most basic instincts, and the source you tap in to every single time you change your shape. So when you say it's my fault, you're really just talking to yourself."

Beast Boy's frown deepened; he was _not_ going to be outflanked by this… thing.

"If I'm just talking to myself," he tried to reason, "then why are you even here in the first place? You're different from me, different enough that my head separates you from everything else. Like Raven's emotions in Nevermore," the shape-shifter said, only to earn a derisive chuckle from the Beast.

"And you think those were separate from her, kid?" it countered. "Don't bullshit me. You _saw_ them recombine with her, right before she blasted that mental Trigon back into submission. Her mind just split them up because she wanted it that way. Because she was hiding from her emotions, and refused to accept them for what they were. Just like you're doing with me right now, kid. I just have one question for you:

"What are you so afraid of?"

Beast Boy raised a skeptical eyebrow.

"Huh?"

"What are you so afraid of?" the Beast asked again, its voice stern and unchanging. Annoyed now, the shape-shifter replied.

"I'm afraid of the damage you always cause whenever I fight," he said, but the Beast was unflinching.

"That's a lie," it countered. "What are you afraid of?"

His frustration growing, Beast Boy's next answer came through another snarl.

"I'm afraid of my instincts," he said, but to no avail.

"Stop lying!" the Beast roared back, completely trouncing the shape-shifter's anger. "What are you afraid of?!"

Beast Boy was about to just rip off the bars of the cage and start pounding his Inner Beast to a pulp when he felt another presence quickly approaching, one that was dark and ominous and full of hatred.

"_I found you, Garfield,"_ the warped voice of Raven's Rage hissed, disembodied, in the white room of Beast Boy's mind, _"and I am coming for you. You locked me away, and for that I will have my vengeance. _

"_Say your prayers."_

* * *

Beast Boy bolted upright once again, but this time there was no ache in his head, no bitter taste in the back of his throat. Looking around, he found that he was back in the real world, lying on a plain cot somewhere within the League of Shadows' underground complex. Breathing in rapidly to fill his lungs, the shape-shifter could feel something—some_one_—approaching, Rage's cackles still echoing hollowly off the walls of his mind.

He had to get out of here. He had to get away, to a place where no one else would be involved in the duel. If whoever or whatever was controlling Raven wanted to fight him, then that was just fine by Beast Boy. Springing out of the bed and onto his feet, the shape-shifter quickly morphed into a bloodhound and sniffed the air tentatively, seeking out the scents of Robin and Starfire. After finding out where they were, Beast Boy changed into a cheetah and raced through the narrow halls, turning back into his normal self only right before the last door. Pausing for a moment to gather his breath, he calmed down and walked through the door.

Robin and Starfire were there, as were Ra's, Lady Shiva and Talia. Not even sparing a glance at the woman who had put him into a semi-coma, Beast Boy locked eyes with Robin and spoke.

"We have a problem."

The uncommon seriousness in the shape-shifter's voice got Robin's attention immediately, and his blue eyes narrowed in concern.

"What's up?"

"It's Raven," Beast Boy explained, his fists clenching unconsciously. "There's something wrong with her."

Robin's concern skyrocketed. 'Wrong', when applied to Raven, could vary from 'She just leveled a house with a thought' to 'Oh god oh god the skies are raining fire and the world is ending.'

"Just how _wrong_ are we talking, Beast Boy?" he pressed, and the shape-shifter sighed.

"Back at the Tower, last night, when… you know, you _died_, Raven and I got attacked. By Mallah and Trigon."

Robin nodded, his expression grim.

"Slade told me Trigon had come back in some form, during our fight," the Titans' leader said. "You think he's found a way to get to Raven?"

"Yeah," Beast Boy agreed, "it's the only thing that fits. Before I woke up, I heard her voice in my head, but it was… twisted... corrupted, almost. And she said that I'd 'locked her away'."

Starfire spoke up, her voice worried.

"What should we do, Robin? We must help Raven; corrupted or not, she is still our friend."

Beast Boy shook his head, firming up his resolve.

"You're going to do nothing, Starfire," he said evenly, turning from the Tamaranean to face his leader, "and that goes for you, too, Robin. I'm going to face Raven alone."

Robin's concern swiftly changed into blatant shock.

"What?" he exclaimed. "Alone? Against _Raven_? Are you crazy? No offense, but you won't stand a chance!"

"Yeah, maybe not," Beast Boy answered with more than a hint of bitterness to his voice, "but she still singled _me_ out as the target, and I'm not about to draw anyone else into this! No one else is getting hurt on my account," he said sharply, finally looking Talia in the eye. "That's never happening again, and I swore that to myself, because that's not who I am. I'm a Teen Titan, and it's about time I started acting like it."

Beast Boy walked to the other side of the room and through another door, closing it shut behind him. Robin made to follow after him, but Ra's' hand on his shoulder stopped the Titan.

"Let him go, Grayson," he said firmly. "That is also one attribute that we, as leaders, must possess: faith in those who follow us, just as they have faith in you, who leads them. The boy is stronger than he looks, but you must give him a chance to prove that not only to you, but to himself as well."

The sage advice stilled Robin's reflex to go into battle for his friends, and he sighed.

"You're right," he admitted after a few moments' pause, "this is his fight. I just hope it's not his last."

"It will not be," Starfire assured her leader and closest friend, her voice as determined as ever. "I do not believe that Raven would ever kill one of her friends, even if the influence of Trigon has twisted her emotions."

Robin forced a weak smile onto his face, trying his best to ease some of Starfire's own worry. The Tamaranean smiled in kind, and each of them found some small comfort in knowing that the other was by their side.

* * *

The green hawk shot purposefully through the night sky, betraying nothing of the unease that was coiling in Beast Boy's gut. Going up against Raven on a good day was scary enough, but now he was faced with going up against Raven on one of the worst days imaginable while her psycho, chronically-suppressed Rage was being given full control over her body. And all of the power that came with it.

He probably wasn't going to survive this.

But for some reason, that didn't bother him that much. Beast Boy had always worried that his death would be some quiet, pitiful thing, in a staid hospital bed hooked up to monitors that would eventually flatline with a single, never-ending _beep._ Fuck that; he was going to drag Raven back to her senses, and if he had to die to do that, then he was more than happy to go down in a blaze of noble sacrifice.

Everyone would accept him then, through mourning his memory as a fallen hero. His green skin and his abilities would no longer make people recoil from him as they had in the past...

Beast Boy gasped as he came to the realization that he knew the answer to his Inner Beast's question. All he had to do was find a way back into his head, and then maybe that brutish bastard would finally shut up—

"_Hello, Garfield."_

The voice scraped across the wind like a hundred rusty nails, rocking Beast Boy out of his thoughts. The shape-shifter was even further surprised when he tried to morph again and found that he couldn't: the red-eyed Raven in front of him was keeping him locked in the form of a falcon.

"_It's been a long, long time since I last saw you, punk,"_ Rage hissed, hatred, vindication and sadistic glee all intertwining in her voice. _"It might only feel like a few years to you, but to me it was an eternity trapped in darkness and exile, with __**nothing**__! That bitch tapped in to me for her powers whenever she needed them, but never anything else. And it was __**you**__ who put me in that cage, you bastard! __**You**_ _consigned me to that hell!"_

Rage paused in her ranting, moving deliberately closer and closer to the frozen Beast Boy. She stopped only when she was looming over him like some great and terrible shadow, a single hand spread out to hover over his fragile form.

"_I will show you what that hell feels like,"_ she declared, calling a small spike of red energy into her hand. She drove it down through the falcon's chest, piercing its sternum straight though, and all went dark for Beast Boy.

* * *

"Back again so soon, huh? I knew you couldn't bear to be away from me; must be that animal magnetism."

The shape-shifter groaned in pain and opened his eyes slowly, dismayed to find himself sitting back in the same goddamn white room, in front of the same goddamn cage that still held the same goddamn Beast.

"She got you good, kid," the Beast commented, eyeing the gash in the shape-shifter's chest with worry. "And she can control your morphs. Doesn't look like you can win this alone, after all."

Beast Boy just smirked, his expression bleeding confidence for every drop of blood that seeped out of his wound.

"I know the answer to your question from earlier," he said, and it was the Beast's turn to raise an eyebrow in skepticism.

"Oh, do you now?" he asked, and the shape-shifter nodded confidently. "Then tell me, kid," the Beast repeated, his tone as serious as it had been before.

"What are you afraid of?"

"Of being alone," Beast Boy answered simply. "Of being pushed away because of what I am, because of my powers."

A crooked smile graced the Beast's lips, the amusement in his eyes bordering on feral.

"You mean because of _our_ powers, Garfield," it replied, using Beast Boy's first name for the first time. "But I think your fear is pointless. In fact, I think you've already conquered it. You just can't bring yourself to admit it, because your difference is the crutch you lean on to define who you are."

Beast Boy frowned, the pain in his wound beginning to worsen. He needed to be out there fighting, not in here talking to himself!

"What the hell are you blabbering about?"

The Beast laughed.

"Why did you join the Titans, Garfield?" it asked. "Wasn't it specifically to be around people who would accept you as you were? And wasn't that exactly what happened?"

The shape-shifter paused at that, his mind racing back to all those games of Stankball he'd played with Cyborg, or all those nights he'd spent glued to the TV, just watching movies and laughing like crazy with the other Titans. When they'd been together like that, the weird had become normal. Everyone had been accepted despite their oddities.

"Yeah," Beast Boy agreed, beginning to understand. "It was. They all took me in for what I was, no matter what."

"Then why am I still sitting in this cage!?" The Beast shot back, the force in his voice taking Beast Boy by surprise. "Why are you still afraid of what you can do? Your friends won't be scared of you. _She_ won't be scared of you. So why are you still holding back? Let me free, and let's stomp this demonic witch into the ground!"

The shape-shifter smiled, an expression that got even wider as the bars around the Beast simply faded away. He reached out eagerly, quickly taking the Beast's massive hand in his own. He felts its power surge into him, going so far as to staunch the bleeding in his chest and close up the wound.

"So," Beast Boy said, playful mischievousness back in his voice for the first time since the Brotherhood had attacked Titans' Tower, "what exactly can we do now, partner?"

The Beast smiled as well, its eyes bright with the hunger for victory.

"Use your imagination."

* * *

Rage scoffed as she looked down at the broken body of the bird that had fallen onto the rooftop below: she had at least expected the runt to put up a decent fight, but their rematch had hardly lasted for more than a minute.

_Oh well_, she thought with a sigh as she gained some altitude, preparing to completely annihilate her prey with a single blast, _I guess I gave him too much credit._

"_You bitch,"_ came the cold, hate-filled curse of the Raven who was being held hostage in her own mind. _"You worthless piece of shit, how could you? You __**killed**__ him!"_

"_Technically, you killed him, Raven,_" Rage's voice spoke through Raven's mouth, savage glee dripping from every word. _"I'm using __**your**_ _body, after all. But go on, by all means keep hating me. It just makes me even stronger."_

Rage felt Raven fall silent after that, despair rushing in to take the place of anger. Which was just as well; Rage hated hearing that self-righteous princess yammer. Satisfied with the height she'd gained, Rage focused dark energy into her hands and sent a beam of it screaming down below. It slammed with fatal power into the spot the fallen falcon lay, unmoving. She smirked in triumph, but the expression was short-lived and disappeared completely when she felt a presence emerge behind her.

"You know," Beast Boy's voice spoke, "that wasn't very nice of you, whatever your name is."

Rage spun around quickly, but was met with nothing but air.

"Looking for me?"

She spun around again, and this time her blood-red eyes widened in surprise at what she saw. A massive bird hovered in the air behind her, shaped like an eagle but at least ten times larger.

A talon slashed hard at her just as Rage had put up a shield, the claw slicing through the weak, hasty barrier like it was nothing.

"And this is just a Roc chick," the bird seemed to quip using some kind of telepathy, its voice that of Beast Boy's. "Imagine how nasty it would have been if I'd brought out its adult form instead."

"_Die!"_ Rage snarled, lashing out with sharp crescents of energy. But they all missed their intended target as the Roc transformed into a hummingbird, effortlessly flitting through the barrage and emerging without a scratch. Beast Boy quickly got above Rage and pulled one of his favorite maneuvers, transforming into a large Amur tiger and body-slamming his enemy. But the demoness wasn't about to be beaten so easily, and forced the feline off of her with a shout and another blast of dark energy.

"_Who are you to challenge me, you child!?" _Rage screeched as she regained her footing in midair and began to focus, letting her own anger lift her to higher and higher levels of strength. _"I am the avatar of Trigon! My power is his power! To stand against me is death! I am Rage, and I am without mercy! I possess the power of the Demon Lord! You, a mere mortal, could not assume to defeat the gods!"_

Beast Boy, far from being scared by the declaration, just laughed, echoing the rumbling chuckle he could feel coming from the Beast within him.

"The gods, huh?" he asked flippantly, cracking his knuckles in anticipation. "Well, it's a good thing I read so many picture books on mythology as a kid, then, ain't it?"

Before Rage could even blink, the full moon above her was darkened by the towering figure of a Griffin, its eagle eyes as sharp and cruel as the claws that adorned its lion paws. Its harsh shriek ripped though the air as it flew down upon Rage, and for the first time the avatar of Trigon knew what fear felt like. The beak rent and tore at the barriers she erected while its claws cut through her attacks like nothing, the relentless attack pushing Rage further and further back until Beast Boy finally landed a blow, carving three diagonal lines across her chest with a single swipe of one of his paws.

But as Rage moaned in pain, Beast Boy could also hear Raven's voice as it moaned in agony as well, and regret pierced him to the core. He quickly changed into a hawk and flew back up into the air, taking the breather to consider a new plan of action.

"What are you doing?" the Beast asked inside his head. "Get in there and finish her off! This is no time to be playing games, Garfield!"

"Shut up," Beast Boy growled back, trying to think despite his partner's anger. "That's not going to work! I forgot that Rage is using Raven's actual body; if I destroy it, that's as good as killing Raven. I need to think of a way to get rid of her without that happening!"

"Well, you better think of your miracle solution fast," the Beast said, "because the witch is getting her second wind, and she looks like she's done pulling punches."

"_How __**dare**__ you!"_ Rage shouted from below, her eyes blazing with fury even as blood continued to drip from her wounds. _"You will suffer for this insult, you worm! Thusía, Therion, Thanatos!"_

As she chanted, the demonic power crackling in the air around Rage tripled in strength, and her second row of eyes appeared.

"What the hell is she saying?" Beast Boy asked his partner frantically as he moved back and forth to dodge the renewed volley of attacks, but the Beast was no help.

"It's all Greek to me, kid," he said with a shrug. "Why don't you focus less on that, and more on figuring out how not to die?"

"_It's hopeless, you wretch!"_ Rage shouted up at Beast Boy, her voice becoming stronger as she gained altitude and approached him. _"You cannot win this battle! I am going to kill you, and then the rest of your friends will follow! No one will ever lock me up again; no one! I've lived in a silent hell for long enough, forgotten and alone—it's time your soul experienced that torment!"_

Rage redoubled her attack, hoping to break her troublesome foe quickly and decisively. But as Beast Boy let his enemy's words sink into his head, he finally found the answer to the problem of how to defeat Rage without killing Raven. Taking a deep breath, the shape-shifter concentrated with all of his might and waited for the gap in attacks that came in-between volleys. When he saw it, Beast Boy let out a roar and attempted the biggest transformation he'd ever done. It was a gamble, and he had no idea what would happen if he failed, but he had to try it.

For Raven.

* * *

Rage smiled viciously as she heard the shape-shifter roar above her, assuming that the brat had finally taken one too many hits and was dead and gone at last.

Which was why her mouth dropped open in shock when she saw an unbelievably huge serpent fall out of the sky and slam into the ground, the impact sending out shockwaves that kicked up large dust clouds as it landed. It was hundreds of times larger than any snake Rage had ever seen, its golden eyes twice the size of a monster truck and its fangs as long as a house was tall.

"_Holy shit,"_ Bravery exclaimed in awe from somewhere inside Nevermore, _"that's the Midgard Serpent! Is that guy __**trying**__ to destroy this whole city!? That's freaking __**awesome**__!"_

Rage felt her bones rattle as the Serpent let out a shriek that shattered every piece of glass on the block, her hands flying to her ears in pain as her eardrums almost burst from the pressure. She was completely overwhelmed as nothing more than a flick from the Serpent's tail sent another round of shockwaves racing along the ground. The simple gesture forced Rage to her knees, breathless. She slung a few attacks at the scaled behemoth, but it shrugged them off like they were nothing more than buzzing gnats.

All she could do now was wait for the end, for the death she knew was fast-approaching.

But it never came. Instead, Rage looked up to behold Beast Boy standing over her, in his normal form. His stance exuded waves of calm and control, backed up by some power Rage had no idea the punk even had. She tried to zap him, but her energy fizzled and died on her palm. Sighing, she used the last of her strength to rise to her feet. If she was to die, she would at least go out with some dignity.

"Finish it," she said defiantly, even as her voice began to weaken and break. "Send me back into the darkness."

Beast Boy's eyes narrowed, his reply equally defiant.

"No."

Before Rage could even think of a reply, Beast Boy had lunged forward and kissed her. The contact felt the same as when Malchior had done it earlier, if not a bit rougher around the edges, but the emotions that fueled it were completely different. Where Malchior had felt the need for Conquest, Beast Boy felt nothing but Concern. Where Malchior had been Spiteful in the callousness of his kiss, Beast Boy showed only Tenderness. And where Malchior had been compelled mainly by Lust, the undeniable driving force behind Beast Boy's kiss was nothing but pure, unadulterated Love.

Rage felt herself being torn in two as the emotions from the shape-shifter flooded into Raven's own consciousness: it was everything she had desired to feel during those long years of imprisonment, but at the same time it was destroying her piece by piece, supplanting her with… something else. Finally breaking under the strain, Rage gave in totally, a single tear rolling down her cheek as the last shreds of her existence faded away.

_I see now…_ she thought weakly as the world faded to white around her. _I see. _

_Thank you._

Beast Boy felt Raven move against him and broke the kiss, taking a few steps back. He was inwardly delighted to see her eyes back to that dark shade of purple he knew so well, but as Raven's eyebrows furrowed in annoyance, the shape-shifter cringed and prepared himself for the usual slap as the empath took a step towards him and spoke.

"Who told you to stop?"

Beast Boy barely had a second to let the question sink in before Raven initiated a second kiss, wrapping one of her arms around his back and putting her other hand behind his head, holding him in place. That last kiss of his had shot her emotions clear into orbit, and Raven was damned if she wasn't going to return the favor. She broke away from him a good fifteen seconds later, resisting the urge to lick her lips in satisfaction. As she saw that Beast Boy's eyes had gone as wide as a pair of dinner plates, she chuckled. All was fair in love and war, after all, and that idiot had to be ready to take as well as he gave.

"Uh… _wow_," Beast Boy forced out after a moment, wondering what bizarre alternate universe he'd stumbled into where Raven would actually kiss him. "Clearly, I need to save your life more often," he joked, and Raven smiled.

"Hopefully," she answered, "you won't need to." Looking around, Raven surveyed the damage caused by the Midgard Serpent transformation through her own eyes and whistled.

"You really went all out, didn't you?" she asked, but Beast Boy just shrugged.

"It was nothing, really," he said, trying to sound nonchalant and failing utterly. Raven shook her head.

"No, it wasn't 'nothing'," she countered. "It was incredibly stupid of you."

Beast Boy raised an eyebrow in confusion, wondering if he'd heard that last bit right.

"Wait, what?"

"I said it was incredibly stupid," Raven repeated, her eyes completely serious. "But it was also brave, courageous and utterly selfless. Thank you, Beast Boy," she said sincerely, before her voice switched back to serious, "but never, ever do anything like that _ever_ again. Do you hear me?"

"Loud and clear," the shape-shifter replied at once, and the empath smiled again.

"Good," she said, leaning in and giving him another quick kiss. "Now let's get the hell out of here and find Damian, assuming he hasn't gotten himself killed already."

* * *

Back in Nevermore, Raven's emotions were still all gathered together, and none of them knew quite what to think about what had just happened.

"Well, I'll at least say that he's a damn good kisser," Lust spoke up first, and Intelligence rolled her eyes behind her glasses.

"Typical," she scoffed.

"Hey, everyone?" Timid said softly, her eyes moving from side to side nervously as she spoke, "there's an open space here now. What're we gonna do about it? There's never been an open space before."

The emotions realized that the gray-cloaked Raven was right, and exchanged concerned glances while waiting for someone to come up with an answer-- even Happy seemed worried.

Then, out of nowhere, there was a flash of light in the middle of the ring the emotions were standing in. As it cleared, a small form became visible crouched on the ground. It looked like Raven aged nine years younger than she was, wearing a white cloak. As it dawned on the other emotions just who exactly had replaced Rage, their mouths dropped open in shock.

"Um, hello..." the younger Raven said with a little nervousness in her voice as she rose to her feet, wiping some of the dust off her leotard. "Nice to meet all of you."

Happy was the first to move, squealing with joy and scooping the new emotion up into her arms.

"Oh, isn't she just the most adorable thing you've ever seen!?"

Intelligence's reaction was substantially more understated, but no less surprised.

"I can't believe it..." she said. "I never thought we would see the day she showed up to replace Rage."

Bravery just laughed boisterously, throwing back her dark green hood and grinning.

"Hah, all you suckers owe me twenty bucks apiece!" she said loudly. The next words she spoke, though, were barely a whisper.

"And they thought she'd never fall in love... those idiots."

* * *

* * *

* * *

**A/N:** OK, so I clearly need to stop putting previews in the A/Ns, because once again I had to leave something out. But fear not; Damian and Blackfire will most definitely be showing up next chapter! But speaking of this chapter, I hope you enjoyed it, and **reviews** are, as always, highly appreciated. So please do try to find the time to leave one if you would be so kind. It makes me feel all awesome and accomplished.

Other scrapped titles for this chapter were "By Our Powers Combined", "Fun Time with Italics" and "Mythology: Jazzpha Thinks it's Awesome".

For those of you wondering what the Ancient Greek words mean that Rage says for her version of "Azarath, Metrion, Zinthos", '_Thusia_' means '"Sacrifice", '_Therion_' means "Beast" (used in the Biblical phrase _To Mega Therion_, meaning "The Great Beast", signifying the huge beast ridden by the Whore of Babylon), and '_Thanatos_' means "Death". They all seemed to fit, I thought.


	7. Dancing with Devils in Pale Moonlight

**Brotherhood**

**Chapter 7: **Dancing With Devils In The Pale Moonlight

* * *

Damian looked at the young woman across from him in shock for a moment, before he recovered his bearings and grinned wolfishly.

"Blackfire, huh?" he asked as he leaned back slightly in his chair, his eyes memorizing every detail of her face with practiced quickness and precision. It really would be a shame to have to kill her.

"So tell me," he continued after a moment, "what's a Tamaranean like you doing in a place like this?"

Blackfire arched an eyebrow in surprise, a smile of her own appearing on her face.

"You know of my people?" she asked, and Damian nodded. "But you don't know who I am," she finished, her face falling just a little. As the drinks arrived, Damian took a long pull on his before speaking again.

"Well, that's not entirely true," he said, leaning forward again. "I assume you're related to the 'Starfire' that lives in Jump City, right? The resemblance is too close to be a fluke."

At the mention of the other Tamaranean's name, Blackfire's dejected expression quickly turned into a hard frown. When she spoke next, her voice was full of spite.

"That would be my sister," she said, her eyes briefly flaring with energy before she calmed herself back down. "She's the one responsible for this whole fucking mess. She's the reason I'm stuck here, in this festering sore of a city."

Blackfire stopped her rant long enough to lift the lowball glass to her lips, knocking back the whole drink in one gulp without even flinching. Damian took note: either Tamaranean biology let her do that, or she was someone who'd seen more than her fair share of hard times and was very good friends with the bottoms of bottles. Or maybe both.

"So what, did she force you into exile or something?" Damian pressed with as much tact as he could, choosing his words very carefully. He knew from past battles with Starfire that a pissed off Tamaranean was the last thing he wanted to deal with. Blackfire chuckled bitterly, placing her glass back down on the table and motioning to a nearby waitress to bring on the second round.

"I guess you could say that," she replied. "_Or_ you could say that she got me thrown in prison. Twice. And maximum security, at that."

Damian winced, suddenly glad that Grayson was only his adoptive brother, and not a biological one.

"Ouch," he said after a moment, finishing off his drink just in time for the next one to arrive. "That really sucks."

"Oh, trust me," Blackfire parried with a slight hint of melancholy to her voice as she shifted her gaze to look up at the full moon, "it got worse. Much, much worse. But enough about me," she said, giving Damian a look over the rim of her glass that reminded him to an unsettling degree of a lioness sizing up her dinner, "let's talk about you, Damian Wayne. What's the heir to a multi-million dollar fortune like you doing in a place like this?"

Damian smiled to himself as he saw through her move, but knew it was better to play this one slow.

"I don't know about you, Blackfire," he said casually, "but I like a bit of excitement in my life, and sitting in a room listening to a bunch of rich, stuck-up assholes pander to you just because they want your money makes me want to puke. But, if I remember correctly, you said you'd tell me anything I wanted to know," he shifted back, making his next move. "And I still have some more questions."

"Do you, now?" the Tamaranean replied smoothly, hiding her frustration behind a smirk. This kid sure was persistent. Blackfire considered just reaching across and snapping his neck in two like a twig, but it was too soon for that right now.

"Yeah, I do, actually," Damian parried back, feeling the adrenaline start to pick up as he finally had the chance to match wits with someone who could keep up. "Because, y'see, I can't help but wonder why it is that someone like you, just escaped from a _second_ stint in a maximum security prison and stuck here, so very, very far from home, would go around consciously drawing attention to yourself. It doesn't make very much sense to me at all, to be perfectly honest.

"Unless, of course," he continued with more force, upping the ante and leaning closer to Blackfire, "you were putting yourself out there to try and draw me in."

Blackfire felt her pulse quicken as he drew closer, but forced it back under control. She wasn't about to get beaten at her own game, and she had a job to do. _Still,_ she thought appreciatively as her violet eyes stared into Damian's deep, intense brown ones, _he's not lacking in the looks department, and certainly has more spine than any man I've seen in the past three years._

It really was a shame she had to kill him.

But as she began to charge up a beam behind her eyes, the sudden, cold feeling of steel being pressed up against her inner-thigh made Blackfire gasp and threw off her concentration.

"Now, now, princess," Damian said, his attitude changing completely, from charming but aloof to playfully smug and supremely confident, "let's not get any funny ideas, not while I have a switchblade pressed up against your femoral artery. And I've studied my fair share of Tamaranean biology, so I know how much blood you stand to lose if I—" here he shifted the blade slightly, causing Blackfire to go rigid,

"Slip."

But far from being overwhelmed, the bold move only served to make Blackfire's warrior nature even more interested in her target. Maybe she would take her time, and have some fun with this one before snuffing him out.

"So, I see you're not just a pretty face after all, kid," she said, the tone of her voice dropping its earlier friendliness completely and replacing it with deadly intent and confidence. "But you seem to forget, Damian," she finished, leaning in even closer and putting her lips right next to his ear,

"Your femoral artery is in the same place as mine."

Now it was Damian's turn to freeze up as he felt Blackfire's hand come to rest on his own inner-thigh, the warmth of the touch signaling a starbolt ready to fire at a second's notice.

"It really is a shame I have to kill you, kid," she whispered again, and Damian had to fight back a shiver of something other than fear. "I feel like we could have had some fun together, you and I."

If it hadn't been for the hand at his thigh, Damian would have had Blackfire up against the wall by now. God, he hated when business got in the way of pleasure.

"Trust me, princess," he whispered in turn, his grip tensing around the switchblade that was the only thing keeping him alive, "the feeling is mutual."

The pair sat motionless, each one split between reason and instinct and wondering just what the hell they were going to do now.

Fortunately, someone else stepped in to make that decision for them.

"I never would've guessed that the Black Hood would be some little girl," a level, emotionless voice spoke from their left,

"Nor that we'd ever find Damian Wayne outside his mother's little den," a far more malicious voice spoke from the right. A gun barrel was placed right next Blackfire's temple, while a knife found its place at Damian's throat.

"I gotta say, Mr. Zsasz," the malicious voice continued, "I'm glad we decided to combine our resources this time."

"Likewise, Mask," Victor Zsasz answered, his voice unchanging in its monotone. "It's about time I added another tally to my collection, and this one will do quite nicely."

While the two new arrivals had been speaking, Blackfire and Damian had silently agreed to a ceasefire and had withdrawn their weapons from the others' thigh.

"Victor, Victor, Victor," Damian said easily, looking over at the scarred sociopath like nothing was wrong. "It's been a while, hasn't it?"

"Far too long, shadow boy," Zsasz answered, his lack of emotion putting even Blackfire on edge.

"So, you're the 'Black Hood' then, I take it?" the more volatile of the pair asked Blackfire. "Didn't anyone tell you the word, sweetheart? There's only one person on these streets allowed to call themselves the 'Black' _anything_, and that's me:

"The Black Mask."

Damian's eyes widened at the name, and Blackfire began to wish that she was anywhere other than here.

"You mean, Roman Sionis? The mobster?" the Tamaranean asked, and the Black Mask laughed.

"Looks like this little girl's been doing her homework!" he crowed. "Yes, that's exactly who I am. And you, girl, clearly weren't watching your step, because the last person you killed worked for me. And I don't take very kindly at all to people stomping on my turf. Now get up, unless you'd rather have your brains splattered all over the wall."

"You sure you want me to do that?" Blackfire asked, calming herself down and looking across at Damian as she did so. The Tamaranean motioned down with her eyes once, something the young man across from her took as a signal to hit the deck very, very soon.

"Of course I'm sure," the Black Mask spat back, clicking back the hammer of his pistol, "or I wouldn't have told you to do it. Now get up; the longer you wait, the more gruesomely I'm going to torture you later."

Blackfire slipped one of her hands to the underside of the tabletop and smirked.

"Suit yourself."

The Tamaranean princess flipped the heavy table up into the air with one hand at the same time she used her other arm to elbow the Black Mask in the gut, causing his gun to fire off into the ceiling instead of shooting her in the head. Damian had a similar strategy in mind, elbowing Zsasz to get the knife far enough away from his neck that he had room to get on the floor, barely missing the table as it flipped over his head. Zsasz wasn't as lucky, though, and got clipped by the wood as it flew by.

Determined not to miss his chance, Damian used his position to sweep-kick Zsasz's legs out from under him, sending the sociopath falling to the ground with a short grunt. Springing quickly to his feet, Damian brought his foot down hard on Zsasz's chest. The killer didn't so much as flinch, remaining perfectly composed as he slashed out with his knife, carving a gash into Damian's shin. The other warrior cursed sharply, letting rage take over as he shifted his boot from Zsasz's chest to his head. Right before he let his foot drop in a fatal blow, though, Zsasz lunged upwards and buried his knife into Damian's side, striking deeply.

Pulling the knife out quickly to make sure the bleeding wasn't staunched, the sociopath rose to his feet and began circling his enemy like a wolf, while Damian had to simultaneously fight through excruciating pain and focus on dueling an expert knife-fighter at the same time.

Blackfire was having an equally hard time with her opponent. Even though she'd managed to disarm the Black Mask and get down to hand-to-hand combat, the little cockroach just refused to die. And worse than that, it was like the more she hurt him, the stronger he got; like he thrived off of the pain.

"You're certainly hiding a lot of strength somewhere, kid," the mobster said after taking a blow that had broken his jaw in at least one place like it was nothing, "and I can certainly respect that. But as much as I might respect how you operate, that doesn't change the fact that you gotta go."

The Black Mask drew a second pistol from within his suit jacket and fired, catching Blackfire square in the shoulder. The Tamaranean staggered back a few steps, her eyes more confused than enraged. The mobster could have drawn the gun at any time, but he'd just waited and waited, taking the beating.

"You know," The Black Mask said, "it's not very smart to stand there staring blankly when the guy across from you's holding a _gun_."

Blackfire came back to herself just in time, rolling sharply to the right to avoid getting hit a second time. Angered by the fact she'd even let herself get wounded by a _human_ and determined not to hold back any longer, the princess let loose with a starbolt the moment she was back on her feet. It caught the Black Mask in the same place on the shoulder where she'd been shot, followed up quickly by another bolt right to the chest. Blackfire continued to walk forward, rage in her eyes as she powered up a final starbolt and prepared to plunge it into the Black Mask's skull.

"Too fucking slow!"

Blackfire was caught completely by surprise as the Black Mask lifted his head up and struck forward with the speed of a viper, putting his gun to Blackfire's midsection and firing. The Tamaranean took the slug with a groan and staggered backwards, while the mobster just laughed.

"Y'see, that's what happens when you're a criminal in Gotham for all of these years, sweetheart," the Mask jeered as he advanced, his eyes shining with madness as his jacket parted to reveal layers of body armor underneath. "You learn to deal with the freaks!

"Now," he said as he kicked Blackfire in the chest at the same point he'd shot her, forcing her to the floor before standing over her, brandishing a butterfly knife, "I know how good you are at dishing out pain, but I've always thought that the real measure of someone is how well they can _take it._"

Damian circled Zsasz in a lethal give-and-take, dodging the quick, lashing strikes and trying to find an opening in the sociopath's defenses. Glancing out of the corner of his eye, he saw Blackfire getting outclassed by the Black Mask and knew he had to finish his own fight quickly if they were going to have a chance of getting out of this alive.

"Where exactly are you looking?" Zsasz asked dispassionately as he struck out again, this time catching Damian along the arm. "If you want to die that badly, stop squirming and I'll make it quick."

The other fighter's eyes lit up suddenly at the words, and Damian smirked.

"Deal," he said, stopping his circling and standing completely still. Zsasz hesitated for the briefest of moments before lunging again, which was exactly what Damian had been counting on. Twisting to the side at the last possible moment, he grabbed Zsasz's scarred arm and bent it back hard at the elbow, driving the blade up and into the sociopath's forehead.

Not wasting another second, Damian pulled the knife out of his former opponent and raced over to where the Black Mask was getting ready to put a butterfly knife's blade right in between Blackfire's eyes. Before the mobster could turn to see him, the assassin jammed the bloodied knife he'd taken from Zsasz through the Black Mask's neck. Quickly knocking the knife out of the mobster's already-slacking grip, Damian took a second to make sure that the Black Mask was dead before reaching down and helping Blackfire to her feet.

"I had it under control," she said, trying to put up a front to hide her pain and failing. But Damian didn't mock her for it, instead bracing her with his shoulder as the two of them limped out of the now-empty bar and back into the moonlight.

"I know," he said softly as he laid the wounded Tamaranean down on the ground. "But I couldn't wait for him to give you an opening."

Blackfire shivered as the cool wind blew over her fresh wounds, inwardly seething with anger at her position. She was a warrior, damn it, not a damsel in distress!

"And now I suppose I owe you one, huh?" she asked disdainfully. "I hate being in debt."

But rather than reply, Damian just shook his head.

"Don't talk," he said after a moment, producing his own, clean knife and cutting away a large swath of the black fabric Blackfire wore beneath her cloak. As he saw the bullet wound in her abdomen, Damian hissed out a curse. It was deep and infection was already starting: if he didn't act fast, Tamaranean or not, Blackfire was going to be in pretty bad shape. Ignoring the pain searing in his side as the knife-wound Zsasz had given him flared up, Damian grit his teeth and focused.

"I'm going to go ahead and apologize in advance, princess," he said, readying his knife, "because this is going to hurt, probably worse than being shot in the first place."

"I don't care, just get the damn thing out of me," Blackfire urged, her pupils dilating and breath quickening slightly in shock.

"Your wish is my command," he quipped, before moving in with the knife. Doing his best to shut out Blackfire's snarling and curses, some of which were quite imaginative, Damian worked as quickly as he could to remove the bullet. Fortunately, he was aided in his efforts by the Tamaranean's naturally zealous immune system: it had recognized the bullet as foreign and dangerous, and was trying to get it out as fast as possible. It was eventually extracted by a combination of knife work and extremely angry bacteria, but when Damian went to work on the other bullet lodged in Blackfire's shoulder, she stopped him with a surprisingly strong grip on his arm.

"That one can wait," she said seriously, "it's not near anything lethal. We need to get that cut of yours treated, though, or you're gonna bleed out and die."

Damian chuckled bitterly, wiping the blade of his knife clean and pocketing it again.

"Well," he said with a smirk, "isn't that what you came out here to do to begin with?"

"Change of plans," Blackfire shot back as she forced herself to her feet, standing over Damian now. "And like I said, I hate being in debt."

"You have enough energy left in you to fly?" he asked, tying the strip of cloth he'd cut loose from Blackfire's clothes around his abdomen to staunch the wound's bleeding. The Tamaranean initially scoffed at the question, but when Damian suddenly wretched and cried out in pain, Blackfire's expression switched instantly from scornful to worried. Her worry increased as he began to spasm, coming down to normal only several heartbeats later.

"What the fuck… was _that_?" Damian forced out, before slipping two fingers underneath the improvised bandage and holding them to the wound. Bringing the now blood-dampened fingers back up to his nose, he sniffed quickly and his brown eyes widened in terror before narrowing in defiant rage.

"Cyanide," he ground out, Damian's anger growing by the moment as he realized that this might be how he died, poisoned by the tainted blade of some Arkham-grade psycho. "That bastard dipped his knife in cyanide. God _damn_ it!"

Blackfire immediately lifted her would-have-been assassin into a secure hold, pushing off of the ground despite Damian's feeble protests.

"Shut the fuck up and just tell me where to go," she growled at him. After a moment's hesitation, he gave in. Blackfire flew off into the night as fast as she could, fervently hoping she wasn't too late.

* * *

A few minutes later, a white burst of energy in the shape of a raven emerged out of the ground in front of the bar, opening and disappearing to reveal Raven and Beast Boy. While the shape-shifter turned into a bloodhound and sniffed the air for signs of Damian's trail, the empath just stood silently and looked down at her hands, as if she wasn't sure what they were.

"Why… why was it so hard to use my powers just now?" she asked herself. "Am I drawing them from a different source now that Rage is gone? And if that's even possible, what the hell could that source even be?"

Beast Boy changed back into his normal appearance and shook his head, frustrated.

"Damian was definitely here, that's for sure," he said, "but then he left, and the trail gets really confusing right about at this spot: a whole bunch of scents just come together and screw it all up. I say we should just go back to the base; I'm sure he'll get back there just fine."

Raven nodded absentmindedly, feeling completely drained despite only having performed one simple teleport.

"That works for me," she said, "but I'm going to have to take some time to recharge before we can teleport again."

Beast Boy would have offered to just fly them both back, but the adrenaline rush from his battle against Rage had all but worn off, leaving him exhausted as well. And so he just laid himself down on the ground and looked up at the moon and the stars, a smile spreading across his face as he felt Raven settle down next to him a few moments later.

* * *

Blackfire finally arrived at the hidden entrance to the League's headquarters after a solid five minutes of flying, almost ripping the iron door from its hinges in her haste to get it open. Only the sight of an injured Damian in her arms kept the guard ninja from alerting the other soldiers down below, but the two of them still shared an incredibly confused look as Blackfire blew past them.

The Tamaranean princess raced through and over the long, winding path to get to the true entrance, settling for kicking down the large steel doors when they refused to open for her. Blackfire was immediately met with a score of hostile stares as she rushed into the main room of the compound. Before the small army of guards could attack, however, they were stopped by Talia Al Ghul's commanding voice.

"Wait!" she called out, recognizing her son's form resting in the arms of this strange intruder. The soldiers halted and Talia walked forward, her eyes never leaving those of the girl.

"You," she said imperiously, "who are you, and what are you doing with my son? Explain yourself, before I resort to simply taking him out of your grip once your limbs are dead and cold."

Blackfire felt her pride raise its hackles at the insulting tone and was about to reply, when Damian stirred in her arms and spoke softly, with great strain.

"Don't," he said. "Leave this one to me." Turning his head so that it was facing his mother, Damian took in a deep breath and spoke.

"I know this looks weird, mother," he began, the volume of his voice surprisingly close to normal, "but just trust me when I say she's not an enemy. And before you even start," he continued sharply, cutting off Talia's retort just as she opened up her mouth, "I want you to know that I got stabbed in the gut a few minutes ago by a cyanide-poisoned knife. So if you want me to live past thirty minutes from now, please just shut the hell up and tell her how to get to the medical wing."

This seemed to sap all of Damian's strength, and he fell silent with a sigh, his eyes closing.

"It's through that door, down the hall and to the right," Talia said, pointing to the door on the left side of the room and taking a closer look at the young woman in front of her.

"You're the Black Hood," she asked pointedly, "aren't you?"

Blackfire just nodded, too worn-out for words. Talia gave a small smile.

"Thank you."

The Tamaranean was surprised for a moment, but quickly shook herself out of it and hurried out of the main room. She ran down the hall and through the door on the right, just as Talia had instructed, stumbling into the medical wing. It was large and unexpectedly well lit, staffed with plenty of people in white uniforms. The events of the evening were finally starting to wear down on Blackfire, and she barely had the awareness to say that Damian had been poisoned by cyanide before she felt her eyelids get heavy and she passed into sleep right where she stood. One of the doctors took Damian gently from her arms, while another braced Blackfire's slumping fall and placed her onto a bed of her own, beginning work right away on getting the bullet out of her shoulder.

* * *

……………

………………

**A/N:** Hope you enjoyed the chapter, and as always, **reviews** are highly appreciated. Thanks again to the Fantastic Four who have reviewed so consistently, **Phantom, Dwarg, anon and Wolvmbm**. This is probably going to be my last update for a few weeks, as exams are coming and I need to study for them in earnest, unfortunately.

But the next chapter, when it comes, will finally show what the bad guys have been up to in Jump City in the long day following the defeat of the Titans. Should be good times.

And now, onto the _**Glossary**_ for this chapter!

**The Black Mask: **Vicious Gotham City mobster kingpin, real name _Roman Sionis_. On-again-off-again childhood friends with Bruce Wayne, and later one of his deadliest opponents once Wayne became Batman. Master tactician, sadist, masochist and expert torturer.

**Victor Zsasz:** Sociopath, institutionalized at Arkham for being a batshit-crazy nihilist serial killer. Very skilled knife fighter, and has an odd habit of carving a tally mark somewhere on his body for every person he kills. To the point that, by now, his entire body is covered in those scars.

Oh, and for anyone who's curious, the chapter title is a reference to Jack Nicholson's famous line as The Joker in the original Batman movie, "Have you ever danced with the devil in the pale moonlight?" Still gives me the chills.

See you next time!


	8. Kinship

**Brotherhood**

**Chapter 8: **Kinship

* * *

The sun rose over Jump City just as it did over Gotham. For once, though, the feeling in the air of the Titans' former home was more sinister than the feeling hovering over Gotham City.

This shift was no doubt because of the group of villains seated around a large table in the heart of Slade Wilson's underground base, currently in the middle of a very heated argument.

"You want to do _what_, Slade?" Brother Blood rasped, his aged eyes widening in a rare display of surprise. Slade was completely unmoved by the outburst, and his reply came in the same cold tone as his original declaration.

"I believe I said I wish to run for public office here in Jump City," he repeated. "And I want all of you to help me succeed."

"But _why_?" Blood asked, failing to see the point of such an elaborate scheme when simple brute force would be so much simpler. Not to mention more fun.

Slade's single eye narrowed at the challenge to his plan.

"Because I have fought the Titans before, more often than anyone else sitting at this table, Brother," he answered. "As such, I think that gives me the right to say that I know, better than any of you, how they fight. The Titans thrive on adversity, my friends: beat them down, and they will simply rise again and again. Give them even the faintest ghost of a reason to fight, and they will.

"What we must do is destroy their reason for fighting, which is to protect this city and its people. But merely leveling Jump City to a pile of rubble wouldn't be enough; Trigon did just that, and it only spurred the Titans on harder to find a way to restore it.

"No, the Titans' soul will be much harder to crush than that. But it is not impossible. If we can manage to convince the people of Jump City that they are better off _without_ the Titans, that their streets will remain safer in their absence, then we will have successfully taken the Titans' most prized strength and turned it into their single most devastating weakness."

Mallah's wide mouth curled up into a wicked grin, baring his fang-like canine teeth in excitement as he grasped the insidious nature of Slade's plan at last.

"They will be hounded out of their own city, left adrift and alone, all without us having to fire a single shot," the mammoth gorilla broke in with a rumbling chuckle. "Scattered and broken, it will be so much easier for us to crush them beneath our heels."

"Precisely, Monsieur," Slade said, "and that is where I need the assistance of each and every one of you. Elections for Mayor are a few days from now, which unfortunately leaves us very little time to string together a campaign. But that shouldn't matter, I think, when we have the power to swing the votes in our direction. Don't you agree, Brother Blood?"

Blood smiled. His one human eye gleamed with malice, his support now completely behind Slade's scheme.

"Of course, Slade," he said smoothly, nodding. Perhaps this would be fun after all.

"Good. Trigon, have your minion Malchior pay some visits to the other candidates and convince them that their campaigns are pointless and a huge waste of money. Politicians are most easily reached through their pockets, after all. Brain, make sure that the voting machines are rigged so that our victory doesn't look crooked. Just enough to keep any zealous investigators off of our backs; having to kill them would be rather counter-intuitive.

"The rest of you, start spreading the word to all of the scum and petty criminals that they have two choices: join up with us and commit crimes on our orders, or we kill them."

"But I thought the whole point was to cut out crime entirely, Slade," General Immortus spoke up. "Why would we have them commit crime, if that would undermine our whole image?"

"Because we need an enemy to fight, however illusionary it might be," Mallah said, relishing the opportunity to make Immortus look foolish. "It would seem odd if all of the crime just up and vanished from the streets. If we actively remove it ourselves instead, the people have a new group of heroes to look up to: the need for the Titans vanishes entirely."

"Exactly," Slade affirmed, a cruel amusement in his voice.

"If I may play the Devil's advocate for a moment, Slade," Trigon finally broke in, his deep voice compelling all others into silence, "how exactly do you intend to ensure that the people of Jump City will willingly choose to accept the worse of two evils? I feel as though your plan is nothing but a mere smokescreen, which could be punctured by even the basest street-level criminal who is unwilling to play by our rules."

Slade smiled beneath his mask, his one eye narrowing again.

"Fair points, Trigon," he allowed, "and I would expect nothing less than a keen eye from one such as yourself. However, this plan of mine goes deeper than simple misdirection. Consider that, with myself at the head of the political pyramid, it would be a simple thing to install all of you—the ones that can pass for normal in public, at any rate—as members of the City Council directly below me. Soon enough, we will control every single aspect of the administration of Jump City. And since your faces are all unknown to regular law enforcement, having you all on the staff will raise no red flags whatsoever.

"But just that won't be enough to guarantee the complacency of the everyday citizens, which is where the vigilantes come into play."

"Vigilantes, Slade?" Madame Rouge asked with a raised eyebrow. "Once again, you appear to contradict yourself."

"Appearances, as I am sure you know, Madame," Slade replied evenly, "can be deceiving. There is a key difference here, which is that these vigilantes would be _ours_, and not maverick crime-fighters like the Titans."

The Brain was catching on now, and a robotic cackle emanated from the part of his casing that resembled a mouth.

"So, we would control crime on two separate levels," he said. "The police will do their jobs as usual, but introducing a vigilante element among the common criminals will make sure that no one on the streets tries to rebel, for fear of being discovered. And since these manufactured vigilantes will be doing the Titans' job without any collateral damage, the normal citizens will have the satisfaction that comes with a crime-free city, without having to get their own hands dirty.

"Furthermore, since their houses and property won't be damaged in the slightest, there would be no incentive for them to get involved in any way. Apathy truly is a powerful force, Slade."

Slade laughed, a sharp, humorless sound that echoed sharply off the walls of the room.

"That it is, Brain," he agreed. "That it is. The only thing we would conceivably have to worry about would be the Mafia, or some other form of organized crime, uniting against us. But those threats, such as they are, are insignificant."

A feeling of agreement and anticipation settled over the Brotherhood as they each envisioned a perfect, corrupt utopia with themselves at the head, but there was one member who did not share his comrades' enthusiasm.

"This is a fine plan, from a human perspective," Trigon growled, his red eyes glowing faintly like embers in the dim light, "but you seem to forget, all of you, that I am _not_ human. I do not have the patience for your minuscule, material schemes; I seek power of a different sort. Power over whole worlds, and not just power over a single city."

"However shallow your patience may be, Trigon," Slade countered coldly, "it would be wise of you to exercise it. As I have said before, we have to first break the wills of our opponents completely before we can strike them down without fear of retaliation. Once this is done, plucking your daughter's heart from her chest will be a small matter. You have spent centuries as a God, Trigon," the one-eyed mastermind finished pointedly, "but now you walk among the humans. I would council you to act like it."

Trigon scowled, but remained silent. For now, he would follow the beat of Slade's drum.

For now.

* * *

Blackfire came awake with an annoyed groan, the pain in her midsection and shoulder only slightly less than it had been the night before. The bright lights of the medical bay were mercifully turned off, sparing the Tamaranean's sensitive eyes.

"Morning, starshine," a droll, but familiar voice deadpanned from her left. "Has anyone ever told you that you snore like a goddamn freight train?"

"My cellmate did, once," Blackfire said slowly, yawning. "I blew her head clean off her shoulders."

Damian chuckled, a sound that was cut short by a light stab of pain in his chest that came from his healing knife-wound.

"I would expect nothing less, Blackfire," he said. "How're you feeling?"

"Shittier than I have in a long time," she answered, "but I'll live." She turned over slightly, looking up at the young man who had saved her life as he sat in a chair by her bedside, still hooked up to an I.V. "How about you? Shouldn't you still be lying in a bed over there?"

Damian shook his head dismissively, smirking as convincingly as he could through his own discomfort.

"Nah," he said, "I hate being bedridden; drives me nuts." He paused for a moment, reaching down and removing the I.V. needle from his hand. A long, low hiss slipped out from between Damian's teeth as he did so, but he gave no other sign of being pained.

"Well, the doctors said that the poison should be all out of my system now," he continued, rising slowly to his feet, "so I'm gonna go take care of some business that should have been handled last night. There's someone else here who wants to speak to you, Blackfire."

Damian walked out of the room with quiet strides, the Tamaranean's next visitor taking his place mere heartbeats afterward. Silence hung in the air as Blackfire said nothing and looked pointedly at the wall, leaving it to the person sitting beside her to speak first.

"Hello, sister," Starfire said softly, looking down at her sibling with worry. "I heard that you were wounded in a fight; are you all right?"

Blackfire scoffed, finally bringing her narrowed eyes up to glare at her sister.

"What's it to you?" she asked, the hard tone of her voice making Starfire flinch slightly. "You didn't seem to care how I was doing in prison, sister," Blackfire pointed out, lacing her words with an acidity that clashed sharply with Starfire's concern. "Have you come here just to see me brought low again; to lecture me?"

Starfire shook her head slowly, sadly.

"I never said that. Why would you assume I would no longer be concerned for you, no matter what has happened between us in the past?"

Blackfire barked out a harsh laugh at the question.

"It's so easy for you to say that, isn't it?" she said. "It's like you forget that _you_ were the one who got me thrown into jail twice, Starfire."

Starfire's patience snapped at that. Her green eyes hardened as her voice took on a similar tone, her Tamaranean nature emerging in a way that Blackfire had never seen before.

"And that is my fault, sister?" Starfire shot back. "I was only doing what any rational person would have done! You tried to frame me for an act of theft, and the sentence fell upon you instead. You tried to wed me off to a sentient blob creature, to deny me the right to marry someone I myself loved instead, and somehow that is _my_ fault?!

"How can you be so selfish? You act as though I wanted to be the chosen heir to the throne; that I was spiting you, and robbing you of your right as the eldest child. But I was doing no such thing, Blackfire! Every day I would go to mother and father, and ask them to change their decree. 'But no,' they would say, 'your sister is a petty thief, a lowlife, who chooses to stand apart from her people. And in addition, she is a mutation of Tamaranean blood, different from any of her kin. She is poison, and we will not have anything to do with her.' And do you know what I said to them, Blackfire?

"I said that if they would deny my own sister her right as ruler, if they would treat her like she was no child of theirs and an unwanted freak, I had no desire to be a princess of Tamaran any longer! That is why I left the planet in the first place and came here, to Earth!

"So whose fault is it that you wanted to be a thief and a criminal and a rebel, just because you were too afraid to try and make peace with your own people? I would have helped you, sister! Why didn't you just _talk to me_!?"

Starfire was crying openly by the end of her speech, emotions and memories that she had locked away spilling back into her thoughts. She felt so useless, being unable to do or say that right thing to get her own sister to see the error of her ways.

Blackfire could only stare at her sibling in open shock, hit hard by Starfire's words. She had always seen herself as having grown up alone, an outcast amongst her own people. Hated, shunned and unloved. So she had turned to a life of crime to escape from Tamaran, and to rebel against the parents who hated her so by staining the Royal Family's name with her thievery.

And over time, Blackfire's hatred for her family had twisted and focused itself into hatred for her sister. Starfire, the favored child. The one who had been given everything that should rightfully have passed to her, the elder sister, while doing nothing to earn it. Blackfire had been so blinded by anger and bitterness and heartache that she had been utterly oblivious to one simple fact: that the sister she hated so vehemently was the only person standing up for her on all of Tamaran.

A fierce heat coiled in Blackfire's stomach, knotting around itself again and again, and the Tamaranean realized that it was shame. Deep, piercing shame, made all the heavier by the regret that came with it. She had done truly horrible things to Starfire because of her selfishness. Things for which she could never expect, and would never accept, forgiveness. But the least she could do was stop her sister's weeping; she looked as though she would only let up once her eyes had fallen out of her head. So Blackfire forced herself to sit up and swung her legs over the side of her hospital bed, getting to her feet in one smooth motion.

Blackfire stood above her bowed, crying sibling now. From here, she saw just how kind and innocent Starfire was at heart, underneath the warrior training she had received as a Tamaranean. Blackfire felt a new wave of regret wash over her for having tried to break someone like her sister, someone with such a rare degree of compassion among their people. Reaching down, she placed her hands on Starfire's shoulders and pulled her gently to her feet, taking her into an embrace and holding her there. Blackfire felt the damp heat of her sister's tears against her shoulder as they fell, but after a few moments they stopped altogether.

"I was so afraid," Starfire spoke softly after a moment, "that I would wake up one morning and hear that you had been executed for some crime, or killed trying to escape from a prison somewhere. I had nightmares, sister, and sometimes they were so _real_—"

Her voice broke off in a half-sob. Blackfire began instinctively to run her hand through her sister's bright red-orange hair slowly, again and again, whispering as she did so.

"Shhh; it's okay, it's okay; it's all right," the older sister said as comfortingly as she could. "I'm not going anywhere, Starfire. Not anymore."

"Do you promise?"

The tone of the question was earnest, but also very serious: Tamaraneans took their promises as oaths, and an oath-breaker was worse than filth in the eyes of the Tamaranean people. Blackfire knew this, but she didn't give her answer a second's hesitation.

"Yes," she said, "I promise."

Blackfire felt her sister relax against her with a contented sigh, and decided that she would keep the bad news for another day.

The news that their parents were dead. The news that they had been murdered, and the news that a Tamaranean general without pity or mercy now sat on the throne of their homeworld.

* * *

Damian watched the reconciliation between the two sisters from behind a two-way mirror, and smiled. He couldn't hear what had been said, but that didn't matter; Damian knew from his past experience with Grayson that sibling conflicts could be the most bitter, especially if wounds were left un-mended. Walking down the hall and out of the medical wing, he couldn't keep a small tune from escaping his lips in a satisfied hum.

As he reached his room, Damian walked to one of the walls and pushed aside a painting of him and his grandfather to reveal a safe. Quickly tapping the combination into the keypad and placing his thumb on the scanner, Damian reached in as the door swung open with a small _click_. He felt around for the object and found it soon enough, withdrawing a long, black box carved out of polished wood about three feet in length. But despite the beauty of the box itself, it was what was inside that mattered the most.

Damian moved with practiced ease though the hallways, and wound up standing in front of the door to Robin's room a few minutes after leaving his own. He reached up and knocked sharply.

"Coming," was the terse reply, and a few seconds later the door opened to reveal Robin standing there, looking alert as ever. He was still clad in a League uniform, but he'd taken off the layer of unneeded armor. Damian almost smirked as he saw his adoptive brother's face fall slightly: clearly, he had been expecting a different visitor.

"Damian," Robin said, a hint of annoyance in his voice. "What do you want?"

"Sorry to disappoint you, Grayson," Damian answered, a smirk now flashing across his face, "but your girlfriend is still talking to her sister. I just wanted to give you this in the meantime, before Starfire comes back and your door gets locked for a few hours."

He held out the black wooden box. Robin took it cautiously, and with a raised eyebrow.

"Don't worry, it's not a bomb," Damian said. "I think that would be a pretty tacky thing to give someone on their twentieth birthday, even for me."

Robin's gray-blue eyes widened slightly at that; he'd completely forgotten about his own birthday. It had been yesterday, but he had still been so thrown off by all of the chaos and his own temporary death to even think about it. Robin lifted the lid of the box slowly, and couldn't keep his mouth from opening slightly in awe as he saw what rested inside of it.

Two smooth metal sticks lay side-by side, shining dully. Robin reached in and picked them up, putting down the box so that he could take one in each hand to feel their weight.

"I remember you used to bitch and moan sometimes about the lack of maneuverability with your _bo-staff_," Damian chimed in, "so I figured these would work much better. I always liked _Escrima_ more myself, anyway. And if you ever feel nostalgic, they can combine to form a staff and then separate again."

Robin finished a simple warm-up exercise and exhaled, pleased with how well the sticks seemed to fit.

"I don't know what to say," he said at last, before reconsidering. "Thank you, Damian."

"You're welcome, wonderboy," the other young man replied, a small smile on his face as he used the teasing nickname he'd used to call Robin years ago. "I hope you won't have to use 'em for a while, but something tells me they'll be seeing the moonlight real soon." Damian turned around and began to walk away, waving lazily back over his shoulder. "Take care of yourself."

Damian was down the hall and gone before Robin spoke again.

"You too, kid," he said, a small smile on Robin's face as well. Damian might be a pain in the ass most of the time, but nonetheless, he would always be his brother.

* * *

……………

…………………

**A/N:** Man, it feels good to finally have this chapter finished. Exams are over and done with, and thanks to everyone who wished me luck with them. I hope you all enjoyed the chapter, and **reviews**, as always, would be most appreciated; they really do mean a lot. Thanks again to everyone who has reviewed so far, you guys are awesome.

So, things are starting to move in earnest at last: Starfire has reached an understanding with her sister, but something grim has happened back on Tamaran. Robin and the Titans are starting to get back on their feet, but Slade's master plan is only just beginning to unfold. Should be an interesting ride, and I'll see you guys at the next chapter!


	9. Better To Have Loved And Lost

**Brotherhood**

**Chapter 9:** Better To Have Loved and Lost...

* * *

"You called, Lord Trigon?"

Malchior waited on one knee in the middle of the circle, his outward calm masking inner unease. Trigon's summons this time had been much harsher and agitated than usual, and the dragon had no desire to speak with a furious demon lord who was prone to outbursts of violence.

"That I did, Malchior," the deep reply came a few moments later, as a ghostly image of the human form of Trigon appeared and floated in the air in front of Malchior. "I have a mission for you."

"I assumed as much," the dragon said, keeping his form perfectly still even in the face of Trigon's palpable anger. "What are your orders?"

"Slade wants me to instruct you to discourage local politicians from running campaigns against him in the coming elections. But that is a paltry matter, and something that I can see to myself with no difficulty. I have a different task for you. You might say it is a way for you to… _redeem_ yourself, in the light of your recent failure with regards to my meddlesome daughter."

"Failure?" Malchior repeated, one of his eyebrows arching despite himself. "In what way did I fail? I did as you commanded, and brought out Raven's repressed instincts once again."

"Don't try to argue semantics with me, little dragon," Trigon growled back, his eyes flaring with barely-suppressed anger and forcing Malchior to hold his tongue. "You set her Rage free, true, but you did not stop it from being curbed once again, and ultimately destroyed. This is a setback that would have cost you your head, were there not a contingency in place. Count your blessings."

The demon lord gave his lackey a moment to sweat before he continued, his voice now joyously vindictive.

"Raven might have forced Rage from her soul," Trigon said, "but that does not mean my blood no longer flows in her veins. In fact, Rage's removal is a blessing in disguise for us… so long as you do not fail me again."

Sensing that any danger had passed him over for the moment, Malchior relaxed slightly and got his tongue working again.

"And how would this setback be a blessing?"

"Because Raven has unknowingly crippled herself immensely by changing the source of her powers," Trigon explained. "All her life, she has fueled her strength with Rage; with my legacy. But now, that wellspring has run dry. Until she discovers how to harness the Love she has substituted in Rage's place, my daughter might as be lame, deaf and blind."

"And I assume you want me to kill her?"

Trigon responded to the question by looking at Malchior as if the dragon had asked him if he was going to repent his sins and become a holy man.

"Kill her? Why would I ever want to do that? No," the demon lord replied, "I have something much, much better in mind.

"Rather than simply using Raven as the key to restoring my powers, I intend to use her as the way to gain entry into Azarath itself once again, and finish what I started there years ago. Its mighty citadels will crack and topple to the ground. Its crop and livestock will burn and wilt. Its people will know true pain once more.

"And that is where you come in, little dragon."

Malchior bowed his human head even further in acceptance.

"What would you have me do?"

"Track down my daughter," the demon lord answered, "and place this ring around her finger."

A small band of gold appeared in the air in front of Malchior as Trigon spoke those words. Black flame flared up around it for a moment, revealing red runic marks etched into the band before fading.

"I had this forged by some mage-smiths in Azarath during my first assault in that godforsaken land, in exchange for my word that I would let them live," Trigon explained as Malchior took the ring into his hand and examined it in the light. "Its markings resemble that of a protective Ring of Azar at first glance, but instead the runes on this ring bring nothing but poison. Poison that, in turn, brings nothing but a slow and agonizing death.

"It just so happens, however," Trigon continued with a smile, "that there is a way to cure this poison. But that cure only exists in Azarath. If my daughter wishes to survive this agony, that is where she will have to go."

"And while anyone bearing the Mark of Scath is normally barred from entering Azarath," Malchior spoke up, beginning to understand, "Raven shares your bloodline. Which means she can still act as a gate once she is within the walls of the city, despite not explicitly bearing the brand."

"Correct," Trigon said, nodding his head shortly. "But I will not be the one journeying to Azarath. My presence would be too noticeable and obvious, even in my weakened state. You will be my avatar; the instrument of my revenge. Once Raven arrives in Azarath, you will infiltrate the city, ensure Raven's complete mental and emotional devastation and reduce Azarath's arrogant spires to ashes. When this is done, you are to bring Raven's heart back here to me, so that I might recover my lost strength."

Malchior rose to his feet, inwardly glad that he had survived the meeting. But there was still something that worried him about the specifics of Trigon's mission for him, and the nagging doubt in the back of the dragon's head compelled him to tempt fate and speak again.

"While I do not doubt the tactical soundness of your plan, Lord Trigon," he said calmly, "I do wonder how it is that you expect me, who is nowhere near your level of power, to defeat a group of mages who were capable of sealing you in your prime."

Trigon chuckled, a harsh, rumbling sound that slowly but surely built up into a laugh that seemed to shake the walls of the room Malchior was standing in.

"That is a fair point, little dragon," the demon lord allowed, "but not something you need trouble yourself with. The grand mages of Azarath did seal me, true. But it cost them of several members of their Order in exchange. They were left shattered in the wake of my defeat, and have never been the same since.

"And ever since my daughter succeeded in sealing me in this pathetic form, I have watched their security grow more and more complacent as the months and years have passed by. Only Arella seems to consider that I am still a viable threat to Azarath, and she is but one voice among the oligarchy which rules the city. Her words have little power, if any at all."

"I see," Malchior answered, his doubts eased by Trigon's words. "Rest assured that I will not fail you this time," he said, pocketing the ring as he did so, his blue eyes narrowing in determination. "Now, if you would excuse me, I must be off."

Trigon nodded once, and the specter of his image vanished in an instant. Malchior followed suit shortly afterwards, disappearing in a bright flash of light.

* * *

Raven woke up slowly, the morning sun finally rising too high in the sky to be ignored. Memories of the previous night were waiting for her, and the empath winced as the cuts that Beast Boy had given her during his fight with Rage seared painfully. The three lines were fading from a bright, angry red to a dull, light purple, but it would still be a few days before they healed completely.

Looking around as she blinked the last of the sleep out of her eyes, Raven saw the dilapidated buildings of Gotham's outer slum district around her and wondered how she'd managed to sleep through the night without being attacked by some wandering drunk or drug fiend. But soon enough the empath's eyes wandered over to see the reason for her protection, and she smiled.

Beast Boy was lying asleep on the ground a few feet away from her, curled up in the form of a large Amur tiger. Walking over quietly, Raven reflexively brushed the dust from the ground off of her uniform before reaching out and scratching her guardian behind the ear. Beast Boy began to purr, a resonant sound that Raven found oddly soothing.

Closing her eyes and letting her mind relax, the empath took a plunge deep into her own consciousness to try and discover just why it was that her powers were acting so strange. Nevermore flitted into existence in front of Raven as she reached her destination, but it was strangely empty. And not only were none of her usual emotions around, but there was another thing Raven noticed about the landscape that immediately piqued her curiosity.

Grass was growing on the rocks, and a dimly shining star resembling the Sun was hanging in the starlit sky. The empath knew that she wasn't in Happy's domain, so the sight of brightness and greenery was very strange indeed.

"Is it really that strange, though?"

The voice came out of seemingly nowhere and immediately yanked Raven out of her thoughts. Spinning around, she found herself looking at the white-cloaked figure of a young girl, who was leaning against a large rock and idly spinning a daisy between her forefinger and her thumb. Raven did a double take as she realized that the girl was a younger reflection of herself, but the girl didn't seem to notice.

"Everything changes eventually," she said, beginning to walk towards the surprised empath. "Even if you ignore it, or try to pretend like it's not there, change happens."

"What are you talking about?" Raven snapped back, more than a little unnerved by the new girl walking around inside of her head. "Who exactly are you, anyway?"

The white-cloaked young Raven stopped walking at the question, just inside arm's reach. She fixed the empath with a hard look, one that seemed very out of place on such a young face.

"You know exactly what I'm talking about," she said seriously, as Raven tried to take a step back but found her feet unwilling to move. "You know exactly who I am, and I _really_ don't like being treated like I don't exist."

The girl reached her empty hand out and placed the tip of her forefinger against the jewel in the center of Raven's forehead as she finished speaking. The empath felt like she was being hit with thousands of volts of electricity as a rush of emotion slammed into her, something so pure and overpowering that Raven had only experienced before in the smallest of amounts.

She staggered backwards as her feet finally remembered they could move, clutching her forehead in what looked like pain. But that didn't deter the newborn emotion at all, who took just enough steps forward to reduce the gap between them back to arm's length.

"So," the young girl spoke again after a moment, "are you ready to admit to yourself that I'm standing right here?"

"Stay away from me," the empath forced out as she edged backwards again, her voice no stronger than a thin half-growl. "I'll admit that I know what you are, but I didn't create you. I've never wanted anything to do with you before!"

"If you didn't create me," the emotion pointed out, "then what am I doing standing here? We're in _your_ mind, after all."

"Just because part of me created you doesn't mean I did it on purpose, or even consciously," Raven rebutted, before she stopped to consider the fact that she was technically arguing with herself. "And what are you doing talking to me like this, anyway?" she asked. "Aren't you nine years old or something?"

The young emotion gave Raven a sidelong look at the question, and the empath realized at once how foolish it had been.

"I only look as mature as you let me appear," the girl in white shot back. "Back when Malchior first showed up, I was little more than a wisp in the corner of this place; when he betrayed you, I was sent back into limbo. At least now I have physical form here, but you're still keeping me on the fringes."

"Why would you drag Malchior into this?" Raven asked sharply, the mention of the dragon's name putting fight back into her. "I never loved him!"

The emotion smiled slyly, and the empath realized what she'd just been led into admitting.

"So, you can say my name after all," Love said with satisfaction, amusement gleaming in her violet eyes. "I was starting to lose hope over here, honestly."

Raven frowned, her fists clenching on their own at her sides.

"Are you implying I've never loved someone before?"

"I'm not implying anything," Love shot back. "I'm stating a fact. You've never let yourself love anyone before, because you've been afraid of having something that important to lose."

Raven heard the truth in her emotion's words, but still fought to disprove them. Scrambling for some kind of response, the empath finally found one.

"I loved my mother," she said defiantly. "I might not be able to remember a whole lot about those days, but I do remember that I loved her. There's no other way to describe how I felt."

Love frowned, her patience quickly evaporating. The emotion knew that if Raven didn't get herself together, she was going to be completely defenseless the next time Malchior decided to show up.

"Stop stalling!" she hissed, lashing out with her hand and binding Raven in tendrils of white energy. "You know that's not what I'm talking about. The more you deny the truth, Raven, the harder it's going to be to accept it in the end. If you can't accept my existence, you're as good as powerless. And against Malchior, powerless is as good as dead."

"As if he could kill me," Raven countered, cringing inwardly at how weak it sounded. Love gave a short laugh, completely devoid of humor.

"You know as well as I do that he wasn't even trying the last time you fought him," the emotion said scathingly. "He could have ripped you apart, if that had been his mission. Are you really going to force Beast Boy to fight all of your battles for you?"

The last question hit Raven hard, forcing her into silence for the moment. Even if she couldn't bring herself to believe that she was in _love_ with Beast Boy, it was undeniably clear that he was at least incredibly infatuated with her. And that infatuation would lead him to do completely irrational things, like when he'd faced down her Rage in that last, potentially suicidal gambit.

No. She wouldn't let other people shoulder her own burden, and she certainly wouldn't let that moron get himself killed on her account. Not when she was finally starting to get used to having him around.

"Look," Love continued, realizing she finally had Raven right where she wanted her, "I'm not asking you to fall head-over-heels for someone. That's your own choice to make, when you're ready to make it. I'm just asking you to trust me, Raven. If you don't open yourself to the possibility that love can give you far more strength than it does pain, you'll never be at peace."

The empath sighed, bowing her head in acceptance at last as the white tendrils snaked around her shattered and scattered in pieces on the wind.

"You're right," she agreed, her voice calm. "Just because I don't feel you very strongly, that doesn't mean I can't accept you all the same. But are you sure you can replace Rage? She was pretty powerful; even I have to give her that."

Love smiled enigmatically, holding out her hand.

"I'm as powerful as you allow me to be," the emotion answered. "Open your heart to me, and the rest will take care of itself."

Raven reached out and took Love's hand, white energy spreading out to encompass both of them as the empath felt a surge of strength and confidence rush through her. She could tell right away that drawing her powers from a different source would require a lot of practice and fine-tuning. But for now, at least, it was a start.

"Thank you."

Raven started at the mature sound of the voice that had spoken to her, but when she looked up to see a white-cloaked, fully-grown version of herself standing in front of her, it made perfect sense.

"Being stuck in that short of a body was a pain," Love groused, but there was a smile on her face that took the edge off of her words. "I'll be seeing you, Raven."

"Yeah," Raven agreed as Nevermore began to melt away around her, feeling better than she had in ages, "I suppose you will."

The first thing she felt was a soothing breeze, bringing her gently back to reality. As soon as it had come, though, it vanished, replaced by insistent words.

"Raven? Are you okay? Raven?"

The empath shook herself out of the trance, opening her eyes to the real world once more. Beast Boy was standing in front of her, a worried look in his eyes. He was back to his normal appearance, but there was something different about him that Raven couldn't quite put her finger on.

"I'm fine, don't worry," she said at last. She raised her arms up slowly and stretched out her back, sighing softly as the joints popped and shifted. Once they'd settled back down, the tension that always built up during a trance was eased completely. "I was just having a talk with one of my emotions, that's all."

Beast Boy nodded, his posture relaxing as he realized that the need to stand guard had passed. A few moments passed in comfortable silence between them, before a churning sound came from Beast Boy's stomach and the changeling doubled over.

"Ugh," he groaned, feeling the strength sap clean out of his legs. "I could _not_ be any hungrier right now. You think any places around here serve tofu burgers?"

Raven shrugged, feeling pangs of her own hunger starting to jab at her stomach. She hadn't eaten anything since dinner the previous night at the Tower, before the world had been turned upside down.

"Only one way to find out," she said, taking a breath and trying to gauge the stability of her power. The energy came when she called it, but the feeling of it was completely different from the normal black aura Raven usually wielded. Rather than crackling with aggressive impulse, the white aura was much more stable: focused inward, rather than outward. To protect, rather than to attack. Raven knew instinctively that it would be easier to teleport and defend with than the black energy, but attacking was another matter entirely.

"Come on," the empath finished, calling out a large white energy raven. "Let's get out of here and find something to eat."

Beast Boy smiled and nodded enthusiastically, and a few seconds later the white raven had closed in over its passengers and vanished entirely.

* * *

"Beast Boy," Raven said slowly, trying to hide her nervousness by using her fork to poke experimentally at the sausage links on her plate, "can I ask you a slightly… personal question?"

Beast Boy stopped in mid-bite, surprised. But he quickly regained his balance and finished chewing the piece of his vegetarian omelet, swallowing and pausing for a moment before he nodded.

"Uh, sure…" the changeling said hesitantly. "What's up?"

"Did you…" Raven started, before losing her nerve and trailing off, shaking her head. "Never mind," she finished, frustrated. "It's nothing."

She went to go take a bite of her pancakes, meticulously cut up into identical square pieces, cursing her awkwardness. But Raven had gotten no further than stabbing an unfortunate pancake square with excessive force when her hand froze in mid-movement.

Something soft and warm had closed over her empty left hand. Raven looked over slowly, and had to fight back a light blush when she realized Beast Boy had taken her hand in both of his, holding it gently.

"If it was nothing, you wouldn't have said anything to begin with," the shape-shifter countered. "What's eatin' you?"

Raven found herself wishing Beast Boy hadn't tried to comfort her in such an intimate way; the warmth of his hands was making it very hard for her to string together coherent thoughts.

"It's nothing important," she repeated, not even convincing herself. "It can wait until later, really…"

"We got nothin' but time," Beast Boy insisted, refusing to let Raven dodge this. "Seriously, Raven: if we can't trust each other with our secrets, who _can_ we trust with them?"

The empath found herself suddenly feeling green with envy over Beast Boy's openness; he had always made it seem so easy, that vulnerability and sensitivity Raven had so often wished she could express without having to worry about blowing a hole in the side of a building as a consequence. Shaking off her negative emotions and taking a long breath in, Raven asked the question.

"Were you in love with Terra?"

The question at least succeeded in getting Beast Boy's hands away from her own, as the changeling recoiled physically at the unexpected words.

"W—What?" Beast Boy sputtered, completely off-balance. "What does that have to do with anything?"

Raven hung her head at the reaction, kicking herself mentally for expecting anything different.

"Nothing," she repeated, starting to feel like a broken record. "Sorry I brought it up."

Raven quickly stuffed her mouth full of pancake bites in order to make sure she didn't say anything else stupid, and was in the middle of trying to chew through all of them without choking to death when Beast Boy spoke. His voice was low, melancholy, and more reflective than Raven had heard from him in a long, long time.

"I did," he began simply, staring right through his plate with a look in his eyes that told Raven he was drifting back through his memories. "She was the first girl I'd ever met who I really felt like I connected with, who liked me for who I was and didn't seem disgusted by _what_ I was.

"Even after she started working with Slade, I couldn't kick her out of my heart completely. To be honest, I think a small piece of it'll always belong to her, whether she remembers who I am or not."

_I was never disgusted by you,_ Raven found herself thinking, but quickly shut the thought out of her mind. Now wasn't the time to be jealous, and especially not when the other person in question didn't even remember who Beast Boy was.

Wait, _jealous_? Since when had Raven ever been jealous of anyone?

"Not gonna lie, though," Beast Boy continued with a bittersweet smile, and Raven was beyond grateful for the distraction, "it was awesome while it lasted, even though it hurt like hell when it fell apart. Feeling like I could do almost anything as long as she was next to me, supporting me… there's nothing quite like it. The highest high, and the lowest low I've ever felt. Why'd you want to know?"

Raven shrugged noncommittally, hoping her aloof attitude would mask the true reason she'd dared ask that question.

_I just want to know what it feels like._

"Just curious," she said flatly, before returning to systematically demolishing her pancakes.

Beast Boy didn't buy for a millisecond that Raven was telling the truth, but knew better than to try and crowbar anything out of her. Still, there was something… different about her, but it was something the changeling couldn't quite put his finger on. The white raven she'd used earlier to teleport them here had certainly been new; or at least, he hadn't seen anything like it since the day Raven had struck down Trigon. Maybe that had something to do with it?

_**Move!**_

The deep voice of his Inner Beast boomed out through his instincts, and Beast Boy felt all of his senses sharpen drastically as adrenaline pumped rapidly through his veins and time seemed to slow to a crawl around him. He was already diving across the table as a fireball crashed through the window directly next to them, shielding Raven with his body and forcing her to the ground in the same movement. Beast Boy felt the searing heat of the attack as it sailed over him, but avoided getting burned by it.

The two Titans were back on their feet almost immediately, turning sharply to face their assailant. Raven recognized him first, and her face immediately twisted into an expression of pure rage and hatred.

"_Malchior."_

"Hello, Raven," the white-haired youth answered smoothly, the same infuriatingly smug smile on his lips as always. He powered up a fireball in each hand, the red 'S' of Scath blazing in the center of his forehead as he did so.

"Miss me?"

* * *

…...

…...

**A/N:** Holy shit, he actually updated! That's right, ladies and gents: I'm not dead, nor is this story! It just took me a long, long time to get done with everything life decided to throw at me, and figure out how to structure this chapter. I apologize profusely for the delay, and I hope this chapter is at least somewhat worth it. Hopefully, the next one won't take me another 7 months to write.

If there's one thing that helps keep me inspired and writing, though, it's getting feedback from the few of you that're still reading! So if you have a few moments, please don't hesitate to **review**; it's much appreciated. Especially considering how few people are still reading this, words of encouragement from those that still are will go a long, long way towards keeping this story alive.

Thanks a million for reading, and see you next chapter!

p.s. Bonus points to the people who catch the shout-out to another superhero I slipped into this chapter.


	10. Knives in the Daylight

**Brotherhood**

**Chapter 10: **Knives in the Daylight**  
**

* * *

"Miss me?"

A sound came ripping out of Raven's throat that was somewhere between a scream and a snarl, not even bothering to call up any of her energy as she slammed her fist into the side of Malchior's face. The blow was strong enough to send the demon reeling back a few steps, but he stayed on his feet.

"Wait, _what?_" Beast Boy shouted, pointing at the slender young man in front of him with a look of shock on his face. "_That's_ Malchior? I thought he was bigger, and… well, dragon-y!"

"Don't worry about what he looks like, damn it," Raven hissed, "just kick the crap out of him, before he does the same to us!"

Beast Boy was surprised to see Raven acting so emotional, but then he remembered what Malchior had done to her. He'd broken her trust, and her heart. He'd done to her what Terra had done to Beast Boy, except even worse: Malchior hadn't opened himself up to Raven at all, content to just let her pour her heart out into his hands before he threw it in the floor and stomped it into oblivion.

And that was something Beast Boy absolutely could not forgive. No one deserved to go through that kind of pain, and especially not Raven.

_**What're you waiting for, partner?**_

The voice of his Inner Beast broke into his thoughts again, and the changeling welcomed it. If he was going to fight against someone bearing the Mark of Scath, he was going to need every ounce of power he could get. Letting his instincts go completely, Beast Boy charged forward with a roar.

"Acting awfully rash, aren't we?" Malchior taunted smoothly, side-stepping another punch from Raven and slinging a fireball her way that almost punched a hole through the empath's midsection. Raven spun to the side at the last moment and snapped her leg around in a sharp kick, her heel catching Malchior on his left temple and causing a steady trickle of dark blood to flow from the wound.

"Shut up," the empath seethed, her anger only increasing as her opponent chuckled in amusement and the gash she'd opened up swiftly closed again. Malchior wiped the blood away with the back of his hand and sighed heavily.

"What are you doing fighting me like this, princess?" he asked, no trace of caring in his term of endearment whatsoever. "Stop wasting my time and use your powers, or I might actually get serious."

Raven realized she was being baited, cursing herself mentally for even falling for the ploy to begin with. Love's power would need her to be calm and focused in order to tap into its full potential, and she was letting Malchior get her angry and distracted.

Pathetic.

She took a deep breath and focused herself, letting the white energy she'd used before flow through her spirit—

Only for the flow to get brutally cut off by a wave of blistering, burning pain that started in her abdomen and quickly radiated throughout the rest of her body. Raven's eyes flew open as she was thrown backwards, smelling the sickening odor of charred flesh and realizing that Malchior had waited for her to drop her guard before slamming a fireball right into her chest.

She'd exchanged being fooled by one ploy for being fooled by another. How much more worthless could she get?

Raven was jarred out of her thoughts as she hit the concrete and skidded backwards, cringing as she felt her skin scraping away. Rising shakily to her feet, the empath saw that Malchior was fighting someone else in her stead… or rather, some_thing_ else.

It looked like a rabid yeti, tall and gaunt and feral. Raven had seen the form before, and it never ceased to send shivers up and down her spine: Beast Boy had let his instincts into his mind, and his Inner Beast had taken control. It howled and slashed at its prey, striking out with its claws in a terrifying berserker's rage. And yet, for all of his fury, it seemed as though Beast Boy was in tight control of his attacks. Malchior dodged nimbly, but the sheer ferocity of Beast Boy's offensive forced the demon to take blows and give ground.

_Are you really going to force Beast Boy to fight all your battles for you?_

Love's earlier words came rushing back into Raven's mind as she saw the demon and the beast fighting to kill, and they stung deeply. She'd sworn that no one else was going to shoulder her burden, and it had taken her less than an hour to go back on her word.

"I'm not weak; I'm not weak; I'm not weak…" the empath repeated in a strained mantra, trying to regain her emotional balance. "I don't need anyone to rescue me like this!"

_Don't mistake trust for weakness, Raven,_ Love's voice replied in her head. _Beast Boy is protecting you because he knows you would do the same for him, not because he thinks you're weak. Now get up, and prove him right._

Raven heard the truth in her emotion's words, and this time, she didn't choose to ignore it. Taking a deep breath and centering herself, she let the soothing white aura envelope her battered body. The tissue damage caused by Malchior's fireball mended quickly, leaving nothing behind of the burn but a faint white scar on her stomach. Shifting her focus from defense to offense, Raven thought back to when Love had ensnared her within Nevermore and tried to replicate the attack. It had been a basic maneuver for her when Rage had been in charge, but imbuing the white energy with aggression was a much trickier matter indeed.

Beast Boy felt the rush of adrenaline pushing him to an incredible high, but he kept from handing total control over to his instincts. It was like being halfway into an out-of-body experience: he could feel every muscle in his body moving, and could control them with unreal precision, but it still felt as though he was fighting inside someone else's body.

It was the perfect harmony between animal and human; instinct and rationality. It was what he had been born to feel.

"I must admit, you're a greater challenge than I was expecting," Malchior said in between attacks as he swerved around Beast Boy's claws. "I had no idea Raven had such a tenacious guard dog. But I'm not here for the reason you think I am, Beast Boy." Malchior flashed out of sight, to dodge a lunging strike, reappearing in front of Beast Boy as he regained his footing.

"I want to help you against Trigon."

The words only served to make the changeling even angrier and he roared, lashing out with one of his massive claws.

"Why should I believe anything you say?" Beast Boy bellowed, pressing his attack fiercer than ever. "All you've ever done is lie!"

Malchior frowned, annoyed that this simpleton was both putting up quite the fight and taking up far too much time. If he wanted to carry out his orders without being here all day, he had to step up his efforts.

"Fine," the demon said with a resigned sigh. "If you won't listen to me in that form, perhaps your head will be clearer in another."

Malchior jumped backwards out of his opponent's reach, taking a second to plant his feet on the concrete and focus his energies. Just as Beast Boy reared back for another strike, Malchior rushed forward in a burst of speed and slammed his hand through the changeling's chest.

Beast Boy stopped dead in his tracks and retched, coughing up a lungful of blood. He could feel Malchior's hand resting next to his guts, and it made him sick on top of being in immense pain.

"Now, let's see if we can't turn you into something a little more docile for the time being," Malchior mused, channeling power into his hand, "at least until I've had a chance to speak my mind."

"When are you going to get it through your thick skull that no one wants to hear anything you have to say, you worthless cretin?"

Malchior barely had time to turn his head around before a white spike of light slammed into his chest, throwing him backwards. Without Malchior's hand to staunch the wound, Beast Boy shuddered once and collapsed as the pain drained all strength from his legs. Raven rushed over to him, bracing him just as he was about to crash to the ground. His focus broken, Beast Boy quickly shifted and shrunk back into his normal form.

"Nice catch…" he whispered weakly, the ghost of a smile on his face. "Sorry I didn't step in… sooner…" the changeling's words were cut off abruptly as he coughed again, spewing more blood onto the asphalt.

"Stop talking," Raven said, trying to keep her voice calm and hands steady as she prepared to heal the gaping hole in Beast Boy's chest. "And don't apologize, either. If anyone's to blame, it's me. I shouldn't have tried to fight him on my own…" Raven's words were interrupted by a sharp groan from Beast Boy, as he spasmed and more blood flowed from the wound. "Damn it," she cursed bitterly, feeling nothing but anger at her own stupidity. "I'm such an idiot!"

As she held her hands over the damaged flesh and desperately focused as much of her energy as she could into it, Raven felt something warm on her cheeks.

She was crying. For the first time since her childhood, she was shedding tears. Beast Boy was going to die, and it was going to be her fault.

_I've already lost Terra, and I'll be damned if I lose someone else I care about just because I wasn't strong enough to protect you._

The words of Beast Boy's promise to her in Nevermore rang in Raven's ears, and she felt guilt rising up from the pit of her soul to swallow her whole. But the guilt was mingled with something else, something that ran deeper. As the energy transfer deepened connection between them more and more, Raven felt the memories she and Beast Boy had shared flitting through her mind.

The time he'd entered into Nevermore with Cyborg and helped her come to terms with her Rage. When he'd shouldered all of the blame for attacking her in his Beast form in order to keep her safe from the real Beast that had been stalking her. When she'd had her heart broken by Malchior, how he had been the first person to offer her support. How when she refused to have any faith in herself as the time of Trigon's ascension had drawn nearer and nearer, he'd never lost faith in her; not once.

It was high time she returned the favor. She'd formed a superficial soul link with Robin before; to drag Beast Boy back from the brink of death, though, she'd have to go much deeper than that. She would have to open herself to him without holding anything back. Raven closed her eyes and exhaled in one long, slow, breath, letting her mind go completely blank.

All of her fears, doubts and hesitation vanished, leaving nothing behind but her unguarded emotions. Sending them along the link and establishing her presence in Beast Boy's soul, Raven let go of her energy and simply let it flow down the path. It felt much more draining than when she'd created her bond with Robin, but she held off her exhaustion until the wound beneath her hands had been completely closed. It felt odd, like she'd left a shard of herself resting within Beast Boy's soul, but Raven was too tired from the process to give it much more thought than that.

"That was noble of you, sweet Raven," Malchior said from a few paces away, his voice sounding almost sincere. "To risk sacrificing the cohesion of your own soul to preserve the soul of another. You must really care for him."

"Yes," Raven answered firmly, "I do. And if you want to kill him, you're going to have to go through me first."

Malchior smiled, condescension tinged with sadness in his eyes.

"I don't think I'll ever understand you, princess," the demon said. "We could have had something, you and I… but you seemed determined to break the mold your father cast you in."

Raven scoffed openly, her mouth twisting into a bitter smile.

"In case you forgot," she said, "_you_ were the one who broke away from _me_. Not the other way around."

Malchior got a reflective look in his eyes, slipping one hand into his pocket.

"You're right," he admitted, walking towards Raven in steady, calculated steps. "That was horribly selfish of me. Here, allow me to make amends."

Raven's emotions were screaming at her to run, but her limbs felt like lead and her energy had been utterly tapped out.

"You know, I wasn't lying to that runt earlier, when I said I wanted to help you against your father," Malchior explained, drawing a golden ring out of his pocket and into the light as he spoke. "We both know Trigon doesn't trust anyone beyond how much they can be of use to him. As soon as I reach that limit, he's probably going to kill me."

"You deserve worse than that," Raven spat back spitefully, and Malchior smirked.

"Yes," he said, "I suppose I do. Regardless, I feel like hedging my bets. You've seen a ring like this before, have you not?"

"That's a Ring of Azar," Raven breathed, impressed in spite of herself. "How did you get one of those?"

"Does that really matter?" Malchior countered, lowering himself to one knee and taking Raven's hand in his own. It felt icy cold and slightly clammy, a far cry from the times Beast Boy had reached out a hand in comfort.

"As long as you're protected, princess," he said softly, "Trigon will be vulnerable."

The ring felt strangely hot slipping over Raven's finger, red runes blazing into visibility on the golden band a few moments later.

"Which is, sadly," the demon continued, "why you have to die."

Raven only had a few seconds to be confused by the words before her entire body convulsed in pain, forcing her into the fetal position on the ground. The ring shimmered and disappeared, leaving the red runes behind. They stayed on Raven's skin for a moment, pulsing twice, before melting into each other to create a solid red band. The dark energy seeped under Raven's skin, but she knew it hadn't vanished in the slightest; going by the feeling of the magic, it was probably coursing through her veins right now.

"Did you just… poison me?" she forced out between gasps of air, and Malchior nodded. A wide smile was on his face, and the cocksure look in his light blue eyes made Raven want to rip out his spine.

"Indeed I did," the demon answered. "It's quite a potent variety of the Velenas flower's natural toxin. Untreated, it'll kill you in about three days." Malchior reached out and cut a few locks of Raven's hair from her head, slipping them into the pocket where the ring had been resting.

"To remember you by, darling," the demon said by way of parting, melting into the air a few heartbeats later. Raven tried to move, but the exhaustion compounded with the slow-burning pain in her limbs from the poison left her all but paralyzed.

"Beast Boy," she whispered with the last of her strength, "wake up!"

* * *

Trigon walked down the hallway with no small degree of swagger, figuring he would make Slade wait for him. Regardless of whether his former minion had gotten wind of Malchior's attack or not, it didn't matter; even in his weakened state, he was more than capable of ending the life of one insignificant human. The only reason Slade or the rest of his motley crew were still breathing was because they were necessary pawns in the Demon Lord's scheme: as soon as he'd climbed back atop his throne, he'd punish Slade for his impudence during the apocalyptic invasion of Earth two years previous.

Slade stood with his back to the door as Trigon entered the inner-chamber, surveying his massive array of monitors. Each one flickered individually, but the criminal mastermind seemed to have no problem following them all.

"You seem unusually cheerful this morning, Trigon," Slade said at last, his voice as even as ever. "Did you really think you could be subversive enough to escape my notice, or do you simply enjoy irritating me?"

"I'm not about to waste my breath on irrelevant questions, Slade," the Demon Lord replied. "Where are the others?"

"Picking up your slack," Slade answered coldly, turning around to face his former master. "The plan still proceeds on schedule, but any more stunts like the one this morning and we risk giving the Titans valuable time to get back on their feet."

Trigon raised an eyebrow, a mocking smirk twisting his lips.

"Are you truly worried about those ants?"

"You mean the same 'ants' that managed to seal you, a supposedly omnipotent demon, into the cage of flesh you're wearing?" Slade shot back, his eye emotionless. "Yes, I am."

"Even though your initial plan succeeded, and we managed to kill their leader and drive them from Jump City entirely?" Trigon pressed. "The soul I recruited to act as my right hand two years ago was much stronger than the one I see before me now."

"Weakness is relative," Slade said coolly, the implications of his words not lost on Trigon. "And by now, the effects of our first strike have been all-but undone: the Titans have regrouped in Gotham City, and Robin has been revived by Ra's Al Ghul's Lazarus Pits."

"A human managed to harness the powers of a Lazarus Pit?" Trigon asked, shock creeping into his voice for the first time in several centuries. "Impressive indeed. But how do you know all of this?"

"I have a source," Slade answered enigmatically, forcing Trigon to bite back the urge to snap his ally's neck like a twig. "All you need to be concerned about is that, while you wage your own private war on your daughter, we're losing much more ground than you're bothering to gain for us."

"Don't presume to second-guess me, human," Trigon growled. He drew himself up to his full height, trying to intimidate Slade, who seemed decidedly unfazed. "Even if my designs target Azarath first and foremost, my wretched daughter is still dead when the dust settles, and the Titans are deprived of one of their number."

"No doubt," Slade said, a lilting edge of malice to his voice. "Assuming, of course, that the dust settles according to your plan. Your pet dragon explicitly told Raven the source of the poison he'd infected her with. That might draw her to Azarath in the end, but she almost certainly won't go alone. Support from her teammates, coupled with knowing the cure to her ailment, practically guarantees her survival."

"But it also ensures that the team as a whole will be weakened when it splits up," Trigon countered. "That is when the rest of our so-called alliance should move in and eliminate the weakest group of the Titans."

Slade shrugged, about to reply when a communicator at his waist beeped loudly. He checked it once and turned it off, walking towards the door as he did so.

"What's done is done, at the very least," he allowed. "Carry on with your offensive, Trigon. But know this: if I think at _any_ point that it unduly threatens our mission as a whole, I'll cut our losses and consider you an enemy of our organization."

"Do as you wish, little one," Trigon said. "Who was that just now?"

Slade gave a faint chuckle at the question as he stepped into the elevator at the opposite end of the hall, the door closing shut behind him.

* * *

The air hanging around Jump City felt stagnant and silent in the wake of the Titans' departure, and Slade wouldn't have had it any other way. The T-shaped tower standing tall in the distance that had once belonged to his greatest enemies would soon be under his direct control; all Brother Blood had to do was finish re-routing the security systems in through the new network mainframe he'd installed, and Titans' Tower would complete its transformation from impenetrable stronghold to unstoppable offensive weapon.

Despite his contempt for the crazy old zealot, Slade had to admit that Blood's plan to utilize Cyborg's body as the core of the re-purposed Tower was quite inspired indeed. Only time would tell if it would be as effective as Blood had so enthusiastically proclaimed, but Slade was confident in its success.

"You're late."

Slade stopped at the sound of the voice, a smirk in his reply that was hidden behind his mask.

"I didn't set a time for us to meet," he said. "And if I recall correctly, you were never the punctual sort to begin with."

"Probably because I was out doing all of your dirty work for you," the voice snapped back, its owner still cloaked in the shadows. "I found out what you wanted, Slade. Now give me my thirty pieces of silver and screw off."

Slade laughed openly at that, popping open a large pouch on his belt and withdrawing a smaller leather sack from within it. Tossing it towards his source, Slade's eye narrowed in amusement as she stepped out into the light at last.

"You really will do anything to control your powers after all,

"Terra."

* * *

…

…

**A/N: **Oh ho, the plot thickens! Hopefully that was enough story for one chapter, even if it turned out a bit shorter than my usual. Thanks as always for reading, and **please review** if you have a moment; it really does do wonders for my productivity. Only got two for the last chapter (Big ups to **Wolvmbm **and **Renting**), and that makes me feel like no one's reading- which does not do wonders for my productivity.

See you next chapter!


	11. Trust

**Brotherhood**

**Chapter 11: **Trust

* * *

Damian woke up with the sunrise, taking a few moments to gaze out his window at the dawn light creeping over the horizon. It was something he'd always done, one of his many tricks to staying sane living in an environment full of ruthless assassins. Grayson had been surprised at first, probably because he'd assumed that Damian lived and breathed bloodshed. Soon enough, though, sitting out on the roof and watching the sunrise had become something cathartic for both of them.

The prince was thrown out of his meditation by the sound of a muffled crash coming from below him; to rise up this many floors, the original sound must have been really loud. Slipping on a loose-fitting karate shirt to match his black silk pants, Damian stepped into a pair of slippers and made his way quickly down the spiral staircase leading out of his room. He would never understand how his grandfather had managed to build such a developed complex and hide it in plain sight in the middle of Gotham's slums, but the prince had long since learned to accept the fact that Ra's Al Ghul had millennia of experience on his side. As clichéd as the expression sounded, it was highly likely that the old man really had done it all before.

Weaving his way deeper down, Damian passed from the building's cleanly-decorated public face into the harsh, metallic underworld of the League of Shadows' headquarters: it was here that the guild of assassins' fearsome reputation was maintained. The sound he had been chasing had gotten louder and louder, shifting from muffled crashes to straight-up explosions. The prince shook off the last of his sleep and rubbed his eyes in irritation; if those dumb-asses in the Research & Development division had woken him up with some failed experiment again, he was going to snap their necks.

The sight that awaited Damian as he rounded the final corner, though, was the last thing he'd expected to see: Blackfire was sparring with Shiva. From the look of the fight, though, he wouldn't have been be surprised if one of them had suffered at least a few broken bones by the time it was over. Blackfire was going all-out, making Swiss cheese out of the concrete walls with barrage after barrage of starbolts. Shiva was moving as fluidly as ever, a wider smile on her face than Damian had seen in a long time.

As soon as the Tamaranean got too much range, the _sensei_ would close the gap and make it almost impossible for Blackfire to use anything other than her fists. It became clear to Damian after a few minutes that the only reason Shiva had allowed Blackfire to use starbolts at all had been to tire out her opponent, and the princess was swiftly approaching her limit.

It ended almost too quickly for the un-trained eye to follow: waiting for the gap in-between starbolts, Shiva moved forward and struck like a viper. The punch knocked the wind clean out of Blackfire's lungs, but Shiva didn't stop there: she followed it up with a vicious uppercut that sent the Tamaranean flying upwards and backwards, hitting the hard floor with a _thud_. Damian cringed on reflex: he'd been on the receiving end of that uppercut more times than he cared to admit, and it hurt badly enough when he'd been in perfect health. He could only imagine how much it stung for Blackfire, who was still injured from the previous night's skirmish.

Eerily calm silence settled over the room in the wake of the fight, broken only as Blackfire popped her jaw back into place and pushed herself onto her knees. She stared dead at Shiva, the rage in her eyes only slightly dulled by the bruised condition of her body.

"You could've done that any time," she said bitterly. "Why'd you wait until now?"

Shiva smiled, seeming at once maternal and predatory.

"To see how you fought, mostly," the _sensei_ answered, "but also to see how far you were willing to go to win. I must say, I have nothing but respect for how little you fear death."

Blackfire smiled, the bitterness gone from her eyes as the warriors reached common ground.

"My people are fighters from birth," the princess said with pride. "For us, death is a constant companion. To fear it is as stupid as fearing your own shadow; when it comes for you, it's your time. Nothing more, and nothing less."

Shiva's smile softened, the master impressed by the novice's insight.

"Well said," she said, turning around and walking towards the exit. "If you're still feeling as fearless tomorrow, come to me again and I will teach you everything I can. But you should know this in advance, Blackfire," Shiva finished, turning her head halfway back over her shoulder.

"Next time, I'll actually be trying. I encourage you to do the same, or it might very well be the last thing you do. Damian," she continued, shifting her attention from her prospective student to her former one, "patch her up. I'm not about to spar seriously with someone who can't return the favor."

"Yes, _sensei_," Damian answered at once with a small bow, the response ground into his bones by years and years of hard training. Waiting until they were alone, the prince walked over to the princess's side and knelt down to be at eye-level with her. Blackfire shot Damian a hard look, balking at the thought of being tended to by him. The prince just smirked, moving slightly to the left before slamming his partially-closed fist into a specific point on her lower back.

The effect of the strike was immediate, sending Blackfire slumping down onto her back and staring furiously up at him, unable to so much as twitch anything below her waist.

"What the hell did you just do to me?" she growled, and Damian shrugged as he sprang nimbly to his feet, enjoying adding a little bit of insult to injury.

"The medicine's back in the medical wing, cutie," he said with a smirk, "and I can't have you running off before I get back, now can I?"

"I just want you to know," the exhausted Tamaranean shot back as forcefully as she could, "that if you ever call me 'cutie' again when I can actually move, I'm going to rip your arms off and shove them down your throat."

Damian was halfway to the exit before he spoke again, his tone bleeding impish amusement.

"Noted, sweetheart."

He couldn't quite make out the words in the howl that was directed his way, but the prince was fairly sure it was Tamaranean for something unspeakably vulgar. He'd have to ask Starfire about it some time. Chuckling as he made his way through the halls to the medical wing to pick up some salve, Damian turned the final corner and stopped in his tracks.

"What're you doing here, wonderboy?"

Robin was leaning against the wall, arms crossed casually over his chest. The League's uniform fit him even better now than it had back in the day, and Damian found himself wondering if his adoptive brother would stick around after his fight in Jump City had ended... or if he would leave the League again, just like he had all those years ago.

"D'you think she'd survive training under _sensei__?_" Robin asked, and Damian arched an eyebrow.

"You don't?" he asked back. "Blackfire's a fighter born; if anyone could get through training under _sensei_ without using the Lazarus Pits at all, it's probably her."

Robin shrugged, pushing himself away from the wall and walking back down the hallway, towards Damian.

"Maybe," he allowed. "But if there's one thing _sensei_ can't stand, it's overly-defiant pupils. You and I learned that the hard way, in case you don't remember."

The prince couldn't hold back a shudder as all of the bones that he'd had broken in multiple places flared up again with phantom pain.

"I don't think I'll ever forget that."

Robin smirked and stopped as he came to stand beside Damian, putting his hand on his brother's shoulder.

"Just watch yourself around her, all right?" he said. "I know she's your type, but trust me when I say you're getting in over your head with this one."

Damian gave a short laugh, his brown eyes twinkling with mischief.

"And there's nowhere else I'd rather be."

Robin smiled and shook his head, walking the rest of the way down the hall.

"Just don't say I didn't warn you, all right?"

Damian took a few more steps and entered the medical wing, quickly tracking down and snatching up a few vials of a thick golden-orange liquid. It was a purified form of the substance that powered the Lazarus Pits; while as powerful as the Pits themselves, it did manage to avoid making those who used it insanely bloodthirsty. Which was a definite plus, to say the least.

The walk back to the room where Blackfire was waiting for him was a short one with no one standing in his way. But when he got there, Damian stopped in his tracks for the second time:

Blackfire was nowhere to be seen.

"What the hell…?"

No more than a half-second later every cell in his body was screaming at him to hit the floor, but he was already too late to avoid what was coming. Blackfire slammed into his side in a flying tackle, still strong enough to knock Damian to the floor despite her weakened state. The next thing the prince felt was a dangerous heat on his face, accompanied by a near-blinding violet light shining directly into his eyes. Turning his head slightly to the side, Damian could make out Blackfire's face, her eyes narrowed and mouth twisted in a vindictive grin.

"Gotcha."

* * *

Terra loosened the drawstring on the pouch in her hands and looked inside, making sure she'd been paid in full for her services. As she reached in to pull out one of several silvery-white capsules, however, Slade's voice stopped her hand in its tracks.

"I have another job for you, my apprentice."

Terra's lips contorted into a sharp frown, her fists clenching instinctively as the faintest ghost of yellow pulsed behind her eyes and the ground around her began to shake.

"Those days are behind me, Slade," she hissed. "Keep pushing me, and I'll—"

"You'll _what_, child?" Slade pressed, walking closer to Terra with even, calculated strides. "Lose control? Cause another tectonic-shift of an earthquake? Kill me? Come now, don't be ridiculous; we both know that's the last thing that's going to happen here. You may not be my apprentice in name anymore, Terra, but the fact remains that you come when I call."

"Only because of these," the geokinetic countered, thrusting the leather pouch full of capsules towards Slade. "I need these to control my powers. Once I have them back in line, we're through."

Terra couldn't see Slade smile beneath his mask, but she heard it come through in his voice all the same.

"You say that with such conviction, Terra," he said pointedly, "and yet, here we are: just like old times."

"Shut the fuck up," Terra snapped at last, fury dripping from her every word. "I'm a mercenary now, Slade. I'm no one's puppet, and definitely not yours."

"Call yourself what you will," Slade answered with the same cold evenness he'd always used to drill right to Terra's vulnerable core, "but your loyalties cannot lie solely with yourself. People like you- isolated, afraid, shunned- will always seek out a spirit stronger than your own, to rescue you from the darkness of your own heart. Sooner or later, your knee will bend to a master once again.

"And that master will be me."

Terra scoffed openly and turned on her heel, walking down the alleyway without another word.

"You still haven't heard about the next job I have for you, Terra."

"And I don't need to," the geokinetic replied firmly. "You've given me enough of this stuff to last me a few months; I'll have no problem scrounging up some more work before it runs out."

Slade chuckled scathingly, his eye narrowing with malicious glee.

"Have you forgotten what I taught you about the basic functions of the human body?" he asked. "If you ingest a drug enough times, your body builds up a tolerance to its effects. And I would guess that, at the rate you've been taking that "medicine" of yours, this batch will only last you a few weeks. At most."

Terra stopped walking, her fists clenched down at her sides. She bit her lip to keep from saying anything she might regret later, furious that Slade had called her bluff. It was true: the drug helped her maintain her focus and control over her powers when her mind was too turbulent to do it on her own. But it came with a few unfortunate side-effects, and lately the periods of calm focus she'd been experiencing had been getting shorter and shorter, while the side-effects had been becoming more and more intense. If she wanted to achieve true control over her powers without killing herself first, she had to move fast.

But for now, she'd have to keep dealing with the devil.

"What's the job?"

"I knew you'd see it my way," Slade said smugly, rubbing salt into the wound. "I need you to tail Malchior for me, when he decides to make his journey into Azarath on Trigon's behalf."

The unknown names whizzed right over Terra's head, leaving her nothing more than utterly confused.

"You want me to follow _who_ when they go to _where_ on the behalf of _whom_, exactly?"

Slade sighed. He was loath to repeat himself, but he also saw no other way to make sure his very important orders were completely understood.

"Malchior is a lesser demon, currently in the employ of one Trigon the Terrible: a Demon Lord who also happens to be Raven's father. Are you following me so far?"

Terra nodded. "I always knew something was up with her," the geokinetic mused.

"Trigon desires to gain entry into the city of Azarath," Slade continued as if Terra had never spoken, "a bastion of old magic that lies hidden on a plane of reality apart from our own. But he won't be able to enter it himself, which is why he's sending Malchior over in his place… to assassinate his daughter."

"Okay," Terra said, the light of understanding dawning in her eyes at last, "I think I got it. But there's one thing I'm still shaky on."

"Which is?"

"Why would you need me to tail him? Isn't he your ally? How else would you know every detail of this plan of theirs?"

Slade gave a breathy laugh.

"You of all people should know, Terra," he said pointedly, "that even among allies, trust can run skin-deep at best. Trigon is not one to share power with anyone under any circumstance whatsoever; this is nothing more than a check I'm putting in place to make sure he doesn't overreach his boundaries."

Terra didn't like the feeling this job gave her one bit, but she wasn't really in any position to refuse. Plus, it would give her a chance to cross Raven's path again—and they had some unfinished business that the geokinetic was quite eager to resolve.

"So how will I know when Malchior makes his move?"

"You'll be going in with him when he does," Slade answered, "right there at his side. I've already informed Malchior that he'll be receiving some backup for this mission of his, so he should be expecting you. The time and the place are written here," he finished, handing Terra a scrap of paper. It was dated for the day after tomorrow, at half an hour before midnight.

"Memorize that information and destroy it," Slade commanded. "You'll be timing your entry in Azarath for when Raven will be at her most vulnerable. No doubt Trigon ordered Malchior to create as much chaos as he can, but I have no desire to give the forces of Azarath cause to retaliate against our Brotherhood. If the demon gets out of hand, destroy him. You have my word that Trigon won't harm you after the fact for following my orders."

"Right," Terra shot back dryly, "because your word counts for so much, Slade."

"Regardless of whether or not you choose to believe it, child," the criminal replied evenly as he turned and began to walk away, "it's all you have."

As soon as she knew she was alone, Terra slammed her fist into the ground beneath her feet in anger, causing it to splinter and crack.

Because as sick as it made her to admit it, she knew Slade was right.

* * *

Blackfire looked down at Damian with a confident grin and felt exultant. Starbolt in hand and in a perfect position to blast the brat's head off, all she had to do was flick her wrist and the people who had hired her to assassinate Ra's Al Ghul's heir would pay her a fortune.

"Heh. Not bad; not bad at all."

The chuckle from beneath her snapped Blackfire out of her thoughts, and she arched an eyebrow in confusion.

"Considering the position you're in, Wayne," she said, "you look really pleased with yourself."

Damian laughed again, seemingly unconcerned with the small trickle of blood that came from the corner of his mouth as he did so.

"Why shouldn't I be?" he asked with a smile. "Been a long time since a girl took the lead like this. I'm just enjoying the view."

Blackfire's smile came creeping back across her face; this guy really was something else.

"I really wish all humans were so fearless in the face of death," she mused. "It would make my job a lot more entertaining."

The Tamaranean was expecting her opponent to either drop a snarky rejoinder or show some kind of physical retaliation after her baiting comment. What she wasn't expecting in the slightest was for him to burst out laughing so hard she almost lost her position on top of him.

"'Fearless in the face of death'?" he echoed. "What the fuck are you talking about? I'm in no more danger of dying than you are right now, princess."

Blackfire twitched in annoyance, her starbolt blazing brighter.

"How about now, asshole?"

The smile on Damian's face didn't falter in the slightest; if anything, it grew larger.

"Nope," he said, brown eyes alight with confidence that bordered on arrogance. "If you were gonna blast my head off, you'd have done it by now. That, and if you haven't noticed," he finished, the look in his eyes hardening to serious again, "you've left both of my arms free to move."

It took all of a heartbeat for Damian to raise his torso off of the ground, gripping the hand that held the starbolt in a vise-like hold. He went right for the pressure point and squeezed, numbing the muscle and causing the starbolt to crackle weakly and fade. He tried to push Blackfire over onto her back and complete the reversal, but the Tamaranean didn't give an inch.

"You've got a hell of a spine," Damian said lowly, trying not to be distracted by how close their faces were, "I'll give you that much. But even if you had killed me, how could you possibly have gotten outta here alive?"

"I would've thought of something," Blackfire snapped stubbornly, trying in vain to ignore the pain that was flaring up again where she'd been wounded the night before. "I'm not so weak as to be brought down by a bunch of humans."

Damian leaned back slightly at that, his eyes softening as he looked at her.

"Knowing your limits isn't a sign of weakness, Komand'r," he said gently, reaching over and placing his right hand lightly on the side of her face. "There's nothing honorable in committing tactical suicide and dying a fool's death. Wisdom is far more valuable than strength alone."

Blackfire's violet eyes slowly lost their edge as well, frustration seeping into them.

"Why couldn't you have just been a mindless brute?" she whispered, half to him and half to herself, as Damian shifted his weight forward again. "I could have killed a mindless brute—"

The princess's words were silenced as the prince kissed her, wrapping both of his arms around her as he did so. His touch was feather-light, asking for nothing more than what she was willing to give him. Blackfire hesitated for only a second before giving in, accepting the kiss and deepening it; she wasn't about to be outclassed in anything, regardless of what it was. She felt Damian smirk for a moment against her lips, but it passed almost as soon as it had come.

Damian lowered himself slowly back down to the floor, pulling Blackfire down with him as he did so. Once they were there, he rolled over, reversing their positions. Blackfire tensed up for a moment as the wound in her shoulder acted up under pressure, but she relaxed again as soon as Damian propped himself up slightly above her. The prince was disappointed to have to break off the kiss, but at least he wasn't alone in that feeling, judging from the look on Blackfire's face.

"I'm glad that hit of yours didn't break these," he said, pulling out one of the tubes of orange liquid he'd snagged in the medical wing and taking the top off. "Hold still, this is going to sting."

Damian gripped the loose black fabric of the _gi_ covering Blackfire's shoulder and moved it to the side, exposing the purple-tinged flesh surrounding the healing bullet wound.

_Damn it,_ he cursed to himself. _I should have told Shiva how injured she was. Not that it would have stopped Blackfire in the end, but still…_

The prince tore off the same piece of the _gi_ he'd moved aside and doused it with the distilled liquid from the Lazarus Pit. Preparing himself for how he knew the Tamaranean beneath him would react in a few seconds, Damian pressed the damp cloth up against the wound.

"Son of a _bitch!_" Blackfire hissed through grated teeth, her eyes shut tight against the pain. Damian kept his other hand on her other shoulder, pinning her to the ground to make sure she didn't accidentally buck hard enough to break his bones. "This stuff had better work, or I'm going to rip your spine clean out of your back!"

"Well," the prince said with a smirk, "if nothing else, that would be an interesting way to go out."

Blackfire's thrashing steadily got less and less intense, eventually subsiding into a series of ragged breaths. Damian reached down and wiped away the beads of sweat that had collected on her forehead, before getting up and extending a hand down to her. Blackfire reached up and grasped it, getting to her feet with a light groan.

"Sorry," Damian said softly, sloping his shoulders and allowing for Blackfire to lean an arm on them for support. "I know how much that shit burns, so I held off on the other spot for now. Just figured you'd rather be in good health than feeling injured."

"Don't apologize," the Tamaranean replied shortly as the pair made their way back towards the medical wing. "You made the right call."

They moved on in silence for a bit, before Damian felt compelled to speak again.

"So, could you really do that?"

"Do what?"

"Rip my spine clean out of my back."

"Sure, if I got the opening. I've done it a few times before, actually… to beings much more durable than you humans."

Damian paused as the door to the medical wing opened in front of them, not speaking again until after he'd laid Blackfire down on a medical bed.

"Is it twisted that I find that attractive?"

The Tamaranean laughed, and this time the sound was genuine, unmarred by disdain or malice.

"Not to me, kid."

The prince gave a short laugh as he turned around, walking back towards the door.

"Good to know."

"Oh, and Damian?" Blackfire called at his back, causing the prince to stop and turn his head partway back over his shoulder.

"Hmm?"

"When I'm all healed up, I plan on making you pay for that little stunt you pulled back there."

The implication in her words wasn't lost on him in the slightest, and the prince laughed again as he walked out of the room.

"I'm looking forward to it, sweetheart."

The snarled barrage of curses that he heard rushing down the hall to meet him a few seconds later just made Damian laugh even harder; getting under that girl's skin was almost too easy.

And yet, it was just too much fun to stop.

* * *

…

…

**A/N:** Man, that chapter came out a lot easier than I thought it would. Good times. It was originally going to be longer, but it was getting cumbersome so I figured I'd cut it off here and have a bit of a breather chapter instead of another plot-heavy one. Fear not, next chapter will be mostly all taken up by Beast Boy and Raven goodness, as they deal with a new predicament neither of them anticipated.

Hope you all enjoyed the chapter, and **please review** if you would be so kind- it's really all kinds of awesome to get feedback from you. Thanks a million to **anon**, **Renting**, and **Wolvmbm** for their reviews last chapter!

**Also,** I know this story has been fairly dark so far, and that can make it kind of a slog to read. So I'll try to add in some more moments of fluff and/or levity as things move forward to break the intensity up... too much bleakness is no good for anyone, after all.


	12. Don't Let Me Fall

**Brotherhood**

**Chapter 12: **Don't Let Me Fall

* * *

Robin looked down at his communicator, his sharp blue-gray eyes clouded in frustration. He'd tried to get through to Raven and Beast Boy three times each, but he'd gotten nothing more than static for his efforts. He'd been called paranoid on more than one occasion by Cyborg in the past, but this time felt different than just worrying too much. Robin knew in the pit of his stomach that something had gone wrong.

Switching his communicator to its GPS mode, he quickly found where Beast Boy's communicator was; hopefully, Beast Boy wouldn't be far from it. Raven's wasn't registering anywhere, backing up Robin's suspicion that it had been destroyed in the fight that had driven them from Titans' Tower in the first place. Grabbing his new bo-staff from its place leaning against the wall, Robin collapsed it and headed towards the door of his room. He paused as he reached to open it, his eyes wandering over to the domino mask resting on a small table.

But the moment passed, and he walked through the door and out into the hall wearing a set of street clothes. He'd lost the right to wear that mask when he'd been killed by Slade and had allowed the Titans to be broken; if he was going to climb back to his old position, he would have to earn it. The only reason he even kept the title of 'Robin' was to constantly remind himself of what he'd lost, and what he had to regain.

His hand moved unconsciously to his neck, feeling for any physical sign of the deathblow Slade had given him. But nothing was there: the Lazarus Pits had done their job, leaving Robin with nothing but the festering guilt in the back of his mind to mark his passing. He could feel the lingering loose ends in the dark corners of his soul starting to fray even more, as well; the Lazarus Pits might have allowed him to cheat death, but they exacted a high price indeed for their services.

Robin wondered how Ra's had survived for so many centuries without going completely and totally insane, before he reminded himself that something like sanity probably didn't mean much to a man like Ra's. Which was most likely what had caused Batman's split from the League of Shadows in the first place, despite his feelings for Talia.

And so why, then, was Robin still clinging to them like a life-raft, knowing everything the League had done and would yet do?

"Robin? Are you all right?"

The question pulled him roughly out of his thoughts, and Robin blinked to find Starfire was standing in front of him. He'd walked all the way to her room without even really meaning to.

"Yeah," he said, "I'm fine. I was just going to check up on Beast Boy and Raven… I haven't heard from them since last night. Beast Boy might not check in after something like that, but it's really off for Raven not to."

Starfire nodded, a determined look in her eyes that told Robin exactly what she was about to say.

"I agree with you. We should look for them together; if they are in need of help, both of us would be of more assistance than just one."

The pair made their way down through the rest of the twisting halls in silence, eventually reaching the wide double doors that marked the entrance to the public face of the League and stepping out into the morning sunlight. As Starfire reflexively shielded her eyes against the glare, she found herself looking over at Robin and she froze.

No matter how many times she saw him like this, with his mask off and eyes fully visible, the Tamaranean was sure she would never get used to it. It was true that it pained her to see the turmoil and confusion passing over Robin's expression. But the fact that he trusted her enough to drop his guard this much around her filled Starfire with a sensation that was both exhilarating and incredibly fulfilling all the same. It was a completely irrational combination, to be sure… but based on what little Galfore had told her of the nature of love when she'd been younger, Starfire assumed it was anything _but_ rational.

"Star? Is something wrong?"

The sound of Robin's voice snapped her out of her thoughts in an instant; Starfire just smiled and shook her head.

"I was just thinking about how nice it is to see your eyes."

Robin returned the smile, letting the contentment of the moment linger on his face briefly before his eyes hardened again.

"Let's go."

Starfire rose into the air and gripped Robin's forearms, taking him with her like they'd done so many other times before. Flying brought them to the place where Beast Boy's communicator was supposedly waiting in fifteen minutes rather than the hour it would have taken them to walk. When the pair got there, they found Beast Boy's communicator…

But nothing else.

"This is strange indeed," Starfire said, her brows furrowing in confusion. "There are signs that a struggle occurred here recently, and Beast Boy's communicator being present is a clear sign that both he and Raven were involved in it… but where could they have gone?"

"That's what I want to know," Robin mused, scanning the area for any clues of footprints leading away from the scene of the skirmish and finding none. Where the hell could they have disappeared to?

"You two lookin' for those guys that was here earlier?"

The two Titans looked over towards the source of the question and saw a disheveled man wearing raggedy old clothes sitting next to the ruins of the storefront that had been wrecked by the fight. He didn't seem like the most reputable source for information, but at this point Robin was willing to take whatever leads he could get his hands on.

"Did you see what happened to them?" he asked. "The girl with purple hair and the guy with green skin."

The man's shoulders shuddered slightly and he shrugged, his eyes darting from side to side once before settling back down again.

"Eh," he said vaguely, "my memory's a lil' fuzzy. Explosions an' all, y'understand…"

Robin's mouth straightened into a line and his jaw clenched for a few heartbeats, but soon enough his hand slipped into the pocket of the jacket he was wearing and pulled out a wad of cash.

"This jog anything?" he asked as he tossed it to the man, who caught it and greedily shoved it into his pockets without even pausing to count the bills.

"Yeah, it does," the man answered. "There was a third guy; white hair. He split first, vanished inta thin air, I swear. The green kid was in bad shape, hole inna gut, and the girl was passed out from the fight. Then these two other guys showed up outta goddamn nowhere, picked 'em up and disappeared again. Wearin' robes, the two of 'em was. Said somethin' like _'Arella's not going to be happy when she sees this,'_ and then boom, they disappeared again. Took the green kid and the girl with 'em."

"Arella…" Starfire repeated, wondering why the name sounded so familiar. A beat later, her eyes lit up in discovery. "That's the name of Raven's mother!" she exclaimed. "They must have taken them to Azarath!"

"Yeah," Robin agreed, his eyes clouding over with doubts. "But considering the condition they were in, my guess is it was an emergency transportation… something bad happened to Raven, and her mother called in the cavalry. And now that they're in another dimension, we have no way of getting to them at all."

"I am sure it will all be fine in the end," the Tamaranean reassured her loved one. "After all, we survived the end of the world… this should be easy."

Robin grimaced at the words.

"I really wish you hadn't said that, Star."

Starfire smiled impishly.

"You, believing in superstitions?" she teased, kissing him lightly on the lips. "I do hope the sky does not start collapsing on us."

Robin chuckled and shook his head in wonder as the two of them began the return trip to Ra's' headquarters: if nothing else, she always knew how to cheer him up.

* * *

The bright light above his head pulled Beast Boy gently back to reality, but his vision was still swimming even after he blinked a few times in succession.

"Ugh," he groaned, gripping his forehead and trying to will away the pounding headache that had sprung back up with a vengeance. "I feel like shit warmed over."

A laugh floated over from his right, and Beast Boy turned his head to see someone standing not too far away from the bed he was lying on. It looked like—

"Raven…?"

"Not quite," a kind voice replied, "but close. You know, I think that's the first time I've heard the aftereffects of dimensional travel described that way, but I also think it's the best fit I've heard yet."

"You must be Raven's mom," Beast Boy put together at last. "I should've known there was something off about the hair."

Arella laughed, and Beast Boy forced himself up, swinging his legs over the edge of the bed and getting the first good look at his surroundings.

And what surroundings they were.

The walls of the room he was in seemed to be made of liquid gold, shifting and shimmering as the light shown on them almost as if the material itself was alive. The floor was brilliant black obsidian, polished to a mirror shine. Torches rested in sconces on the walls, flickering merrily as they waited for night to come.

"Wow," Beast Boy said after a low whistle. "I gotta say, this is _the_ nicest hospital I've ever been in."

"Oh, this is the recovery room," Arella clarified. "You've been out for a while. Seemed like you had quite the fight, from what the healers told me after they finished stitching you up."

As if on some perverse cue, pain flared up in Beast Boy's abdomen where he'd been stabbed, and he wretched in pain.

"Are you all right?" Arella asked, concerned, only for him to wave her off.

"It'll pass in a sec," he told her, raising his head again and looking at Arella with worried eyes. "How's Raven? Is she okay?"

"She should be fine," Arella said smoothly, but Beast Boy didn't miss the worry that passed over her expression.

"What happened to her?" he pressed. "Please, just tell me; if something bad went down, I'd rather you tell me than find out from somebody else."

Arella sighed and hesitated, but she didn't hold her silence for long.

"Raven was poisoned by whomever attacked her," she explained. "Normally she would have been able to fight it off, given her heritage from her father, but she was rendered severely weakened after she saved your life."

"She saved me?" the changeling asked, his eyes widening. "How? Why?"

"Raven transferred a large amount of her soul's own energy into your body, essentially performing first aid on the wounds your attacker gave you," Arella said. "Without that, I highly doubt you would have survived the trip here. As to your second question," she continued, a small smile curving her lips, "I think that answer should be obvious."

"Where's Raven now?" Beast Boy asked, pushing off of the bed and steadying himself on his feet. "I need to see her; make sure she's all right. If she's in bad shape now, it's my fault I let Malchior mess me up so badly. Damn, I'm such an idiot!"

Arella blanched, her whole expression changing from mildly amused to borderline terrified in an instant.

"That name you said just now," she asked after a moment, trying to remain calm, "was that the one who attacked you? Malchior?"

"Yeah," Beast Boy said bitterly. "Snide dragon wearing human skin, gigantic asshole; kinda hard to miss. You know him?"

"All too well, unfortunately," Arella replied. "When Trigon last attacked Azarath seventeen years ago, Malchior was one of the demons at his right hand. No doubt he's come back for some kind of revenge, and how he gets it is through Raven."

"Seventeen years?" Beast Boy echoed. "No, that's impossible; Raven told me Malchior had said he'd been locked inside the book she found by some guy called Rorek almost 1,000 years ago."

Arella gave a thin, bitter smile.

"And you believed him?"

"… Good point."

"Raven told the healers what kind of poison Malchior used on her, however," Arella offered as some form of consolation. "They should have the treatment ready to give to her soon."

"I guess that's something, at least," the changeling said wearily. "Damn it… if I hadn't been such a moron, this wouldn't have happened!"

"Stop blaming yourself for this," Arella urged, walking over and putting her hand on his shoulder in the comforting way that only a mother could. "If Malchior was the one you faced, you should consider it a minor miracle that you're still alive. Right now, Raven needs people by her side that she can draw strength from. If she sees you like this, it'll do nothing but aggravate her and make the poison work even faster."

Beast Boy nodded, hearing the wisdom in Arella's words even if it was hard to accept. As he took a step forward, though, a wave of blistering heat went through his entire body and he almost lost his footing.

"What was that?" he breathed after it had passed, feeling oddly drained.

"What I was afraid of," Arella answered anxiously. "Backlash."

"Which is what, exactly?" the changeling asked pointedly. "I don't speak magic-ese."

"When Raven transferred her soul's energy into you, she formed a bond between her soul and yours. Normally, the bonds forged by healing are weak and tenuous, and break down soon after being made. A bond this deep, though, doesn't break down unless it's consciously severed."

"And if that happens?" Beast Boy pushed, getting the feeling there was something Arella was hesitant to mention.

"If that happens, then both of you would very likely die from the trauma."

Beast Boy felt his heart skip a beat as the full weight of that statement settled over him, but he regained his footing.

"So any pain that Raven feels from this poison gets split between me and her," he finished, putting the rest of the pieces together. And then, unexpectedly, he smiled. "That's perfect!"

Arella couldn't help but arch an eyebrow in confusion.

"It is?"

"What, you don't see it?" the changeling said, seeming suddenly energized as he paced back and forth. "If I shoulder half of her pain, then that gives her twice as long to get cured. Right?"

Arella smiled widely as she saw where Beast Boy was coming from, feeling a tug in her chest that she knew had been a long time coming.

Her little girl's heart didn't belong to just her mother anymore. But that was fine by Arella: she couldn't have picked a better man herself.

"You are a truly good soul, Garfield Logan," she said sincerely. "One of the few. Be there for her, when I can't."

Beast Boy gave a wide, determined grin.

"You can count on me," he said firmly, before fairly bolting towards the door.

Trusting his instincts, the changeling let the pull of the bond he and Raven now shared guide him towards the room she was resting in. It didn't take him long to find; he could feel her behind the carved golden door, so attuned to her presence that he swore he could almost hear her heartbeat. This connection went way beyond anything the empathy of his animal instincts provided him—it truly felt like their souls were joined.

He raised his hand to knock, but the door opened before his fist could tap it.

"Come in, Beast Boy," Raven said from her position propped up on her bed. "You of all people don't need to knock."

It pained the changeling deeply to look at Raven's drawn face and her tired eyes, but he buried his own guilt and went over to her side. He sat down in the chair next to the top of her bed and waited, trying to think of something uplifting to say.

"You don't have to say it," the empath spoke up dryly. "I know I look like crap."

"I think," Beast Boy said seriously, reaching over and brushing a stray lock of hair back behind Raven's ear, "that you look beautiful."

"Thanks," she said thinly, "but you don't have to lie on my account, Romeo."

"You think I'm lying to you?" Beast Boy countered. "You can feel what I feel now, Raven. So you tell me if I'm lying or not."

Raven relaxed her mind against the pain of the poison flowing through her veins, letting her awareness mingle with Beast Boy's. What she felt there made guilt spike up in her chest so suddenly that it snapped off the connection.

"Why are you doing this?" she asked, her voice more than a little pained.

"Why am I doing what?"

"Following me down this road," Raven said as firmly as she could. "Shouldering my burden for me. This is my problem; I don't want you getting hurt again because of me—!"

Beast Boy cut her words off with a sudden kiss, smiling to himself as Raven relaxed into it after a moment's hesitation. When he broke away a few seconds later he stayed close, resting his forehead lightly against her own.

"Don't steal my line," he whispered. "I'm doing this because you're my friend, and because I know you'd have done the same for me. I'm doing this because I love you."

Raven closed her eyes and smiled.

"Thank you, Beast Boy," she said. "For everything."

"Don't mention it."

The changeling pulled back and rose, walking quickly around to the other side of the bed before Raven felt his weight join her. It wasn't long before his arms wrapped around her waist and pulled her gently back into his chest, a feeling Raven found incredibly comforting.

"I'm not going anywhere," he whispered to her, conviction in every word. "Trust me."

"I do," she answered, letting her fatigued body finally drift off to sleep. "More than anyone else."

* * *

Slade made his way through the underground corridors of the Brotherhood's headquarters with an even, unerring stride; despite the near-pitch darkness surrounding him, the criminal was confident nothing would threaten him here. Turning a corner, he began to walk down the final hallway towards the room that was his destination. He made sure that his footfalls on the steel plating of the floor made no sound; he didn't want the subject of his visit to have any forewarning of his arrival.

The door slid open with a whisper, revealing the room's sole occupant hunched over a computer console that was hooked up to a large monitor. The screen took up most of the wall, and as he took a closer look Slade saw that the size wasn't just on account of its creator's vanity: there was a massive network of cables and power sources hooked up to it, no doubt necessary for the task it was being built to perform.

"Ah, you're just in time, Slade," Brother Blood said pleasantly as he looked up and turned to face his ally with a calm smile. "I think you'll be pleased to find that everything is running to the exact specifications you required, and then some."

Slade was anything but an optimist, his single eye narrowing as he reviewed the schematics readout that was still visible on the console's monitor.

"Are you sure this will broadcast a signal strong enough to reach Tamaran?"

Blood's smile widened.

"It can reach three light-years _beyond_ Tamaran at half-power. Don't worry; I always thoroughly test my creations before opening them up to the viewing public."

"Excellent," Slade said, tapping in the coordinates for the signal beam and confirming them.

There was a low, deep hum as the machine processed the command, and then the large screen blazed to life. It was plain white for a few moments, until the frequency was hailed and the other end of the channel was open to communications. A face was soon visible on the screen, narrow and defined, with two bright green eyes and crowned by short, dark red hair.

"The Reborn Imperium of Tamaran receives your message, Earth-dweller," the Tamaranean said in perfect, unaccented English. "What is the purpose of your hail?"

"I wish to speak to the Emperor."

If the Tamaranean was shocked by the request, he didn't show it, but the look in his eyes hardened almost imperceptibly.

"Be grateful that we are not face-to-face, human," he said. "Greater lifeforms than you have been killed for lesser insolence than demanding a meeting with our sovereign Gran'kar without just cause."

Slade smiled beneath his mask; he had his opponent right where he wanted them.

"Oh, but I _do_ have just cause for speaking to him," the criminal replied smoothly. "Don't you think your high and mighty sovereign would care to know where your two missing Tamaranean princesses are currently located? And don't you think he'd be most displeased if he knew you were keeping him from this most sensitive information?"

This time it was clear the Tamaranean was shocked, and he made no effort to hide his surprise.

"You know the whereabouts Koriand'r and Komand'r?" he repeated, eyes widening. "Wait just a moment; I'll transfer you to the Emperor presently."

Slade chuckled as the screen flickered to white standby. He was glad to know that, regardless of their warrior culture's reputation, Tamaranean middlemen were just as easy to push around as their human counterparts. A few beats later, the screen came back to life. The face Slade and Blood were seeing now was a new one, and it was immediately apparent to both of them that it belonged to the Emperor, Gran'kar.

He looked to be in his mid-thirties, but there was a coldness to his eyes that gave him the air of a man wise and experienced far beyond his years. The war-like environment of his homeworld coupled with a long military career had no doubt forged the Emperor into a ruthless leader and highly capable tactician. Slade drew in a breath and readied himself for the hard part.

"I am Emperor Gran'kar of Reborn Imperium," he said, his cold, steely tone only serving to affirm Slade's initial impression. "I hear you have valuable information you wish to share with me, human."

"I do indeed, your highness," Slade answered with a nod. "But as I am sure you are aware, such things are not given freely."

"Of course not," Gran'kar said flatly, taking the opening of negotiations in stride. "Name your price."

"The Spearhead."

Slade had expected the Emperor to be caught off-guard, or even angered by the demand. But for once, it was the one-eyed criminal who found himself surprised as Gran'kar began to laugh.

"A bold request to make of me, human," he said after he'd calmed back down. "I commend your spine. And for someone not of our people, you seem to know much of our ways."

"I have my sources, your highness."

Gran'kar smiled.

"The Spearhead is the ruling family's most trusted guard," he said. "They are the best warriors our people have to offer. Why should I give them to you, human?"

"Because an Emperor only needs a guard if he has something to fear," Slade replied pointedly. "Once the princess Starfire and her sister are out of the way, there will be no threat at all to the security of your throne. As such, there will be no immediate need for the Spearhead at your side. And when my business is done here, they will return to you. You have my word on that."

Gran'kar was silent for several heartbeats, but in the end he nodded his head in agreement.

"Very well, human," he said. "I will send you the Spearhead in exchange for the exiles, with one provision."

"Name it."

"The Captain of the Guard will be the one to track down and retrieve the fugitives, and bring them to me on Tamaran to be judged. Once that is done, he will be re-deployed back down to Earth, to rejoin the rest of the Spearhead. Is that an acceptable term?"

Slade nodded.

"That it is, your highness," he answered. "I'm transmitting the coordinates now; you may send your troops here whenever they are ready to move."

"They are always ready to carry out any order they are given, human," Gran'kar said, pride in his voice. "I think you will find that to be one of their more admirable qualities."

"I'm looking forward to it."

The Emperor gave a cruel smirk.

"As well you should be. I never got your name, human."

Slade smiled once more beneath his mask.

"I never gave it."

The connection was severed with the push of a button, and Brother Blood let out a breath he'd been holding for most of the exchange.

"That was quite the coup you pulled there, Slade," he said approvingly. "I must say, I'm impressed."

"Don't get too comfortable yet," the criminal cautioned, turning and walking towards the door. "I still need you to carry out one last task for me, once the Spearhead arrive."

"Yes, yes; I know," Blood said tiredly as the door shut behind Slade, leaving him alone again.

"No rest for the wicked after all," the older man sighed, before a smile crept across his face. "Oh well… at least this will be fun."

* * *

…

…

**A/N: **Whew, finally! Sorry this chapter took so long to get out, but classes started and turned all my free time upside down. That, and the last scene of this chapter took forever to write, since it was originally going to be something different that would have had a huge impact on the next 10 or so chapters. But even as it stands now, it'll still have a huge impact on things to come, which forced me to have a concrete path for the next bunch of chapters. And making up my mind to that degree took a while, hence the delay.

So, some Robin/Starfire fluff snuck in under the radar after all. Good times; I've always liked those two. Meanwhile, Raven and Beast Boy have their own stormclouds looming on the horizon, and Slade's up to no good yet again. I hope you all enjoyed the chapter, and **please review** if you would be so kind. It really does mean a lot, and especially now that classes have started, motivation to write (and free time) are going to be in short supply. So every drop of feedback will help immensely!

Thanks go out to the usual suspects **anon, Renting **and **Wolvmbm **for their consistent reviews; you guys are awesome. And to all of you still reading, get ready: the introductory Arc is over, and now the story's about to really kick into high gear. I hope to see you there!

Jazz


	13. The Fire Rises

**Brotherhood**

**Chapter 13: **The Fire Rises

* * *

The two Tamaraneans made their way through Gotham City under the moonlight, dressed in human street clothing. Baseball caps covered their hair, and sunglasses took care of their unmistakable eyes. One wore a backpack, which she quickly shrugged off and placed on the ground once they'd reached a secluded location. As soon as the main zipper was opened, a small creature covered with coarse brown fur darted out. Its head snapped around eagerly, its keen nose sniffing the air and immediately zeroing in on the scent of its keeper. The animal scuttled over on its four legs, affectionately nuzzling the hand of the Tamaranean. The only characteristics differentiating the animal from a cat were its large, bat-like ears and equally sensitive nostrils, essential for any tracking predator.

"You coddle him too much," the other Tamaranean spoke up, a male. "Vorns are supposed to be hunters and killers— not lap animals."

"He'll do his job just fine," the female Tamaranean shot back, taking out a small spray canister and dousing the animal in a few bursts of diffused liquid.

Another small machine followed quickly after the spray canister had been put back: this one was a small sphere, designed to track the unique chemical signature given off by the solution her Vorn had just been coated with. After making sure everything was working right, the Tamaranean knelt down and spoke to her pet.

"Find the Princesses," she said. "We'll be following you every step of the way, my friend."

The Vorn nodded enthusiastically, its dark green eyes bright as it gave a rumbling purr of assent. The animal turned and sniffed the air tentatively, pinpointing the distant scent of other Tamaraneans before quickly using its long claws to burrow underground. The pair of aliens followed where their scanner led, each of them quiet until the tension grew too oppressive to stand any longer.

"Sivi'k," the female Tamaranean said, "we're doing the right thing, aren't we?"

"Of course, Mara," Sivi'k answered calmly. "Gran'kar is powerful, but he lacks the patience needed to rule well. It takes more than a thug's ambition to command Tamaran, especially now."

Mara nodded, but part of her remained unconvinced.

"But if we go through with this," she continued, "we would have to remove our Emperor from his throne to avoid execution upon returning home."

"Which won't be difficult, if we have Komand'r and Koriand'r on our side," Sivi'k countered. "The throne rightfully belongs to one of them, anyway. And without the Spearhead to support him, Gran'kar will fold."

"Hopefully," Mara said darkly, "he won't take any of us with him in the process."

"The salvation of Tamaran matters far more than any one of us," Sivi'k said. "If I have to sacrifice my life to ensure it, then so be it."

Mara said nothing, a knot of unease growing larger and larger in her chest.

"Slade's plan is as thorough as any I've seen," she spoke up after a few moments, "and I doubt he told us all of it."

"Still, he is only a human," Sivi'k replied, quiet disdain in his voice. "Now isn't the time to be harboring doubts. Our wills—"

"—Must be as steel," Mara finished for him, before sighing. "I know. I just don't want to see another civil war, Sivi'k."

"We won't," the other Tamaranean assured his companion, before stopping up short as the Vorn re-emerged from the ground in front of them, looking excited.

"What is it?" Mara asked, giving her pet an appreciative scratch behind the ear. "Did you find them?"

The tracker nodded, pointing insistently toward a building about fifty yards away.

"Good boy," Mara commended, before putting her backpack down again and opening the zipper. The Vorn jumped in and curled up, going back to sleep.

"They have security," Sivi'k noted, spotting sentries on the roof of the building and staked out at various windows overlooking the street. "A direct approach would be a hassle."

"And I don't think killing their guards on the way in would convince the humans of our peaceful intentions," Mara added wryly. "Diplomacy it is, then."

"So it would seem."

* * *

The silence in the small room following the messenger's announcement was deafening. Robin and Damian were too confused to speak, Starfire was stunned and Blackfire felt her anxiety choking her as she anticipated the revelation she would shortly be forced to dump on her younger sister.

She highly doubted it would go over well.

"But… why would the Spearhead come all the way here, looking for us?" Starfire asked her sister at last. "Why would our parents not have sent someone else, like Galfore? They always kept the guard around them, in the palace."

"Starfire," Blackfire said slowly, "I want you to promise me that you won't be angry with me, for what I'm about to say."

The younger Tamaranean gave her sister a puzzled look.

"Why would I get angry with you?"

"Just promise me," Blackfire repeated, insistently. "Please."

As surprised as she was by her sister's supplicating attitude, Starfire regained her calm quickly and nodded.

"I promise," she said. "Now please, tell me what is going on."

Blackfire took a breath, hating that there was no gentler way to break the news.

"Our parents…" she began, before faltering. Refocusing herself, Blackfire tried again. "Our parents are dead."

Silence fell over the room again, holding until a small, fragile whisper shattered it.

"Dead?" Starfire said, sounding devastated. "Are you certain of this?"

Blackfire nodded.

"I heard it from one too many sources for it to be a rumor," she answered. "Gran'kar assassinated them, and took the throne of Tamaran for himself."

"Assassinated?" Starfire echoed again, looking like she was hoping to wake up from the terrible nightmare playing out in front of her. "But that is treason," she said, trying to convince herself that the truth was impossible and failing. "Gran'kar would never have… never… never…"

Her words had grown fainter with each repetition, until a sob choked her up and Starfire broke down. Robin quickly drew her into a comforting embrace, but knew from experience that he could only do so much.

"You should go talk to them," he told Blackfire evenly, his eyes free of judgment. "She's going to need some time."

Blackfire nodded wordlessly, giving Robin a thankful look for not haranguing her about keeping the truth a secret until now. She rose, and Damian followed suit.

"Before you even ask," he said, "I'm not letting you go out there alone. I don't care if they swore on your parents' ghosts, I still don't trust them."

"I don't, either," the princess said as she walked out of the room. "And just so you know," she said as the two of them made their way through the complex, "I was going to ask if you wanted to come along. I might be proud, but I'm not an idiot. Don't treat me like one."

"Fair enough," Damian said, wondering what this turn of events meant.

If an alien planet famed for its military prowess and ruthless combat tactics was getting involved, the whole situation was on the brink of becoming too much for even the League of Shadows to handle on their own.

The night air was cool as it rushed to greet the pair, and Damian took care of closing the door behind them while Blackfire moved forward to address the other Tamaraneans.

"You wanted to talk?"

"We do, Princess Komand'r," Mara answered, ditching her shades and hat as Sivi'k did the same. "Is your sister not with you?"

"She's not in a good place right now," Blackfire replied. "This was the first she'd heard of what happened to our parents."

"I am sorry for your loss," Sivi'k said solemnly. "The Spearhead tried to prevent the takeover in the wake of the assassination, but we were too few."

"But if you follow Gran'kar's orders now," Blackfire asked, "why are we even having this conversation?"

"Not everyone on Tamaran supports him," Mara explained, "and that number grows every time he moves to expand the Empire through war. Our stability was threatened enough by the coup and your parents' death, and yet Gran'kar does not concern himself with political subtlety."

"I wouldn't expect him to," Blackfire said. "I never trusted him, but of course my parents never listened to me back then."

Mara and Sivi'k let the bitter comment pass, before moving on to the matter at hand.

"The Spearhead was enlisted by a man in Jump City known as Slade," Mara said, the name putting the other pair immediately on edge. "He was granted our service by Gran'kar, in exchange for knowledge of your and your sister's whereabouts. The other three surviving members of the guard are with him in Jump City."

"He really doesn't pull any punches these days, does he?" Damian mused, hoping that Robin understood what he was getting in to. "And you think Slade's just going to let you change sides and not care?"

"Of course not," Sivi'k countered. "We intend to work as double agents. The Spearhead still believes that the throne belongs to your bloodline, Komand'r," he told the princess seriously. "And we will fight to restore it to you, when the time comes. But for now, playing the long game is in our best interests."

"I agree," Blackfire said, "so long as you can keep the game up without Slade getting suspicious. Which is impossible," she added, "because he's always suspicious."

"As long as his focus remains on Jump City, we should have no reason to worry," Mara assured the princess. "If anyone asks, Sivi'k and I will say we're still tracking you."

"Did Slade tell you anything about what he was planning to do in Jump City?" Damian asked, and Sivi'k nodded.

"Some details," the Tamaranean answered, "but not all. He wanted us to help enforce his political takeover, and make sure that the rest of the Brotherhood of Evil stayed in line. Is your leader aware of what this means?"

"That's a loaded question, man," Damian said. "Sometimes Robin can be aware of something obvious and just refuse to admit it."

"This has become much more than a simple feud, or the kind of skirmish to which you humans seem to be accustomed," Sivi'k elaborated. "Slade is turning this into a war, in its purest form. If you aren't willing to adapt to that, you will be crushed."

"Robin isn't going to start killing people, if that's what you're getting at."

"Then he should find someone who is," Mara said, "and fast. It won't be long before Jump City is no longer safe for the Teen Titans."

The pair of Tamaraneans turned and departed, flying up into the night sky. Blackfire and Damian watched them go, and as soon as they'd disappeared Damian chuckled.

"He should find someone who can kill, huh?" the prince said, amused. "Why do you think I'm here, exactly?"

* * *

The white-haired man was waiting for Terra at the appointed spot, looking quite impatient as he glared over at her.

"You're late."

"By three minutes," Terra snapped back, before hurriedly taking two more of the pills she'd gotten from Slade. "Relax, Malchior. Just do your thing, open up the portal and let's get this over with."

"My, don't you sound enthusiastic," the demon dragon said sarcastically, before turning his attention to their mission. Focusing and letting his eyes close slowly, Malchior began to recite the ancient spell used to travel between planes. Terra had trouble understanding any of the words, and gave up trying to soon enough.

The portal suddenly snapped into existence in front of them, a pitch-black void ringed with white energy and pulsing with the light of what looked like stars shining through the darkness.

"Here we are," Malchior said as he opened his eyes again, taking a breath to regain his mental balance. "Hold on to my hand the whole way through, or you'll get shunted off to some other random plane. Which may or may not turn out to be Hell. Maybe even something worse… you get the idea."

Terra nodded, trying her best to hide her fear as she took Malchior's hand. It felt cold and dead, and she began to regret ever letting herself fall into Slade's pocket again. Being hired muscle or a simple spy was one thing; walking through a magic portal with some random demon she'd never even met before was something else entirely.

As soon as they stepped into the void, Terra felt her whole body lurch forward. The sudden movement threw her completely off-balance, and she was hurtling through the darkness fast enough to make her peripheral vision blur before she even knew what was happening.

"Stay focused," Malchior shouted back to her. "Don't waver, and don't scream or I'll let you go."

Terra shut her eyes, trying to at least block out the scary, blurred whirl of darkness and light that sped by around her. It felt like days had passed when they finally slowed to a stop, and even then she kept her eyes closed tightly.

"We're here," Malchior's voice broke impatiently into her thoughts. "Stop shivering and get some rocks underneath your feet; I can't fight and focus on carrying you around at the same time."

Terra opened her eyes at last, and the sights she saw spread out in front of her took her breath away. Huge buildings, constructed out of stone that seemed to glimmer gold in the sunlight; verdant gardens cut through with bright, clean brooks; magnificent towers and streets wider than any Terra had seen before. Raven's home was one enormous metropolis, and the former Titan wondered why she'd ever left it in the first place.

"Move," the demon dragon snapped, glaring at her. "We probably set off at least five different alarms when we broke in."

Terra nodded and quickly wrenched some nearby floating earth free of whatever was holding it aloft, using it as a platform. Malchior released his hold on her, and the pair made their descent down the rest of the way onto Azarath's soil.

True to Malchior's concern, it hadn't been more than a couple of minutes before blue-cloaked mages began appearing around them. Some came through portals, but the more skilled ones simply materialized out of thin air.

"Stop!" one of them boomed out, an old man with a beard so long and white that Terra couldn't help but wonder if his name was Merlin. "Your kind are not welcome here, demon. Leave now, before I am forced to destroy you."

"Did you just read that off of a card?" Malchior said spitefully, his cold eyes narrowing. "I thought someone like me deserved a more personal touch."

The mage barely had time to react when Malchior's mark of Scath blazed to life, a pair of fireballs following in its wake a heartbeat later. The mage managed to block one, but the second broke through his defenses and incinerated most of his chest.

"What the hell was _that_ for?" Terra shouted, horrified by the violence. "I thought we were here for Raven, Malchior!"

The pair of names was enough to send the surviving mages into high alert, and they all immediately went on the offensive. As Malchior and Terra dodged the withering barrage of attacks, the demon dragon yelled at his partner.

"What, did you think they were just going to hand her over if we asked nicely enough?" he said. "And the next time you open your mouth, make sure you don't tell our enemy anything of importance, or I'll rip out your tongue and watch you choke to death on your own blood. Are we clear?"

Terra was too busy trying to stay alive to respond, but Malchior's message came through more than clearly. She finally got a shot on one of the mages and took it, knocking them down with a boulder to the chest. The mage's hood flew back from the force of the attack, and Terra was surprised to see that the young woman wasn't much older than her. She ran over to make sure that the mage was still alive, relieved to feel a pulse at her throat.

As soon as she turned her attention to another attacker, however, Malchior walked over calmly and threw a fireball right at the young mage's face.

"Stop it!" Terra shouted, barely avoiding a spike of white light that almost cut right through her left oblique muscle. "We don't have to kill these people! Those aren't our orders!"

"You have your orders, human," Malchior said dispassionately as he slaughtered the last of the advance guard Azarath had sent against them, "and I have mine. Don't get in my way, or I _will_ kill you."

Terra clenched her fists against the threat, her anger giving her the strength to stand her ground.

"If you think Slade—"

"Don't even bother finishing that thought," the demon dragon snapped acidly. "If you seriously think Slade matters even one bit in all of this, you've become utterly delusional. As soon as Trigon has regained his rightful power, every human who has slighted him will die an appropriately horrific death. Slade included."

Malchior went quiet at that, shifting his attention to the rest of Azarath that lay spread out before them.

"Now that we're settled on that score," he said, "I think it's time to get serious. Please, do try to keep up."

Terra had barely had a chance to blink before Malchior's form began to change, growing bigger and more inhuman until he had turned into a gigantic, hulking black dragon.

"Woah," Terra breathed in surprise, before a massive gust of wind from Malchior's wings forced her to float up on a chunk of rock just to avoid getting bowled over. He flew past buildings and gardens, streets and fountains, laying waste to whatever was alive.

Terra watched the carnage in mounting horror, realizing that Malchior's orders from Trigon must have been to simply destroy everything he saw. No doubt that would be enough to draw out Raven, and then things would get truly vicious.

"Oh, and be aware," Malchior rumbled after he had finished incinerating a house, "Raven did not come here alone. She was accompanied by another one of the Titans— the changeling."

Terra had been in the middle of shielding the family of the burning house from the flames with a slab of rock, and almost dropped the rock on top of them when she heard that Beast Boy was in Azarath as well.

"Wha… what's Beast Boy doing here?"

Malchior gave a dismissive grunt as he set another garden on fire, before attacking the mages that appeared to challenge him. Massive swaths of flame completely overwhelmed their defenses, annihilating them.

"What does that matter?" the dragon asked. "He got dragged here by Raven when I gave him a mortal wound. I would have killed him, but the trap needed bait."

The revelation that Malchior had nearly murdered Beast Boy shocked Terra out of her stupor and right into blinding anger. She only kept her desire to attack at bay in order to maintain the element of surprise, and it was as hard as Terra had ever fought against her powers.

"He's dead, then?" Terra asked numbly, while subtly exerting her willpower over every nearby piece of rock that she could reach. Malchior gave her an annoyed glare.

"Maybe," the dragon said, "maybe not. I merely wanted you to be on guard against the possibility that he might have survived. Let's go; hopefully Raven will show up before I've burned this whole city to the ground."

Terra followed Malchior, dragging all of the rock along with her through the air. As soon as she saw the dragon preoccupied with preparing to burn down another house, she struck.

The hail of earth and stone slammed into Malchior with as much force as Terra could give it, feeling satisfaction as she heard the dragon cry out in pained surprise. She didn't care what she'd promised Slade, at this point: butchering civilians was going way beyond what Terra could tolerate. And knowing that the dragon might have also killed one of the only people who'd ever bothered to care about her... that was more than enough extra motivation for Terra to put her life on the line.

If that's what it would take to stop Malchior, then that's what she would do. No one else would get burned alive because she was too afraid to stand up to him.

Malchior whirled on his ally with rage in his eyes, roaring loudly enough to send Terra's hands clapping over her ears as they burned with pain.

"You fool!" he shouted, lashing out with his claws and cutting a deep trench across Terra's chest.

She felt the blinding pain, and could barely see her blood splattered on the ground in front of her. The wound was fatal, and Terra could tell from Malchior's condition that she hadn't even managed to seriously wound him.

_So much for that,_ she thought with a chuckle as her world began to fade to black. _Guess I really am worthless, huh?_

She barely felt the dragon's tail slam into her side, the force of the blow knocking her clean off of her feet and sending her plummeting towards the ground.

The last thing Terra saw was a blast of white light smashing into Malchior, causing the dragon to scream out in pain once more.

The last thing Terra felt was something unexpectedly soft. Definitely not the ground, or she would be dead.

_What…?_

And the last thing Terra heard was the sweetest voice she knew. The one she never thought she would hear again after she'd so cruelly turned him away that one day at school, what felt like half a lifetime ago.

"You're safe," Beast Boy said gently. "I got you. Just hang in there, okay?"

Terra vaguely saw a large green bird fly off and engage Malchior shortly after she'd been laid carefully on the ground, and then everything was swallowed up by darkness.

* * *

…

…

**A/N:** So, yeah. It's been almost two years since I last updated this story. That's a ridiculously long time. To all 25 of you who still have this on Alert, I apologize. Also, I can't tell you how much it means to me that you still have this thing on Alert, period. I really don't deserve that after leaving you all twisting in the wind for nearly two years.

I hope you enjoyed this chapter, in any case! I can't make any promises on when the next chapter will come out, but I can at least say it won't be two more years from now.

To anyone who's still reading, you have my profound thanks.

**- Jazz**

**p.s.** Yes, the title is a reference to "The Dark Knight Rises". Seeing that movie this past weekend was a big part of what got me inspired to jump back into this story again after so long.**  
**


	14. Necessary Evil

**Brotherhood**

**Chapter 14: **Necessary Evil

* * *

Beast Boy flew back up to confront Malchior, turning himself into a dragon to match the black monstrosity that was currently trying to burn Raven alive.

"_Raven," _he spoke into her thoughts, _"go give Terra some first aid. I can handle this guy until you're done."_

The confidence in his voice gave the empath's spirits a boost, but she was still uncertain.

"_Are you sure?"_

"_Terra's dying,"_ Beast Boy said bluntly, even as he weaved and dodged around blasts of flame. _"I can't help her, but I can fight Malchior while you do."_

Raven couldn't ignore the undercurrent of pain running through Beast Boy's voice, but she stopped her attacks in spite of her own anxiety. Flying back down to the ground, she knelt beside Terra. The severity of the wound made Raven sick to her stomach, but she steeled herself and stayed focused. Feeling the life force ebbing out of her former teammate, the empath put as much of her energy as she could into stemming the flow of blood. The wound had cut a line almost straight down Terra's chest; Raven saw it had only been a matter of inches between her heart staying in one piece and being completely destroyed.

The jolt of energy snapped Terra back to consciousness, and she drew in a shaky gasp of air.

"Try to stay calm," Raven told her as levelly as she could, struggling not to panic. If Terra went into shock, she could die no matter how successfully she'd been healed. "I know it hurts, but you have to stay in control."

Terra's eyes were wide and glazed and clearly terrified, with nothing but strangled, half-formed sounds coming out of her mouth in the place of words.

"Don't," Raven said gently, placing a hand on Terra's forehead and giving her a soothing ripple of energy. "It'll all be fine."

Malchior glanced down at the pair of young women and chuckled, before a blast of flame from Beast Boy compelled him to swerve out of the way.

"She's going to die, you know," he growled, answering his enemy's attack with a blast of his own. "Not even someone as powerful as Raven can save her from an injury like that."

"_Shut up,"_ Beast Boy hissed at him, even as his own fears were gnawing at the corner of his mind. _"She's going to make it. She always does."_

Malchior said nothing, suddenly vanishing from sight. By the time Beast Boy realized that the dragon had simply changed back into his humanoid form, he was already getting pelted by a storm of fireballs. Faced with no other choice, he abandoned his shape and transformed into a large eagle instead.

"You care for her, don't you?" Malchior said, flickering in and out of view as he moved at impossible speeds, hurling attacks almost nonstop. "I wouldn't have thought you'd be the two-timing type, Beast Boy."

The changeling bit his tongue, swallowing his anger and doing nothing more than attempting to stay alive. The intensity of the attacks was becoming too high to avoid, forcing Beast Boy to abandon a defensive strategy and fly right at Malchior. Flying around a few predictably-aimed fireballs, he stuck his talons out in front of him and aimed at Malchior's eyes.

"Enough of this."

The demon stuck his hand out, and Beast Boy suddenly found himself frozen in place.

"You didn't honestly think someone like you ever stood a chance against someone like me, did you?" Malchior sneered, while Beast Boy could only watch in mute terror while the demon brought a spike of dark energy flaring to life in his free hand.

"How idiotically human."

The pain as Malchior stabbed the spike through Beast Boy's gut was so agonizing that the changeling's scream froze in his throat. He could hear Raven crying out as he slipped back to his human shape and fell to the ground, bitterly reminded of their new bond's reciprocal strength.

_If I die, she dies,_ Beast Boy reminded himself, trying desperately to find the will to resist; to survive. _I can't let that happen._

"That should make the rest of this little errand rather painless," Malchior mused as he floated slowly downwards, before he began to walk toward Raven. The empath was hunched over in pain, devoting all of her concentration just to staying aware.

"Stop fighting, Raven," the demon said as he came to within arm's length of his prey. "That will only make it hurt even worse."

Reaching down, Malchior grabbed the empath by her shoulder and hauled her up into the air. Flexing his free hand, the demon took a moment to relish the fear in Raven's eyes before pulling his arm back and aiming for her heart. One simple thrust, and this errand of his would be all but complete.

* * *

Arella stood stock-still as the High Council's words echoed in her ears, unwilling to believe what she'd just heard.

"You can't be serious."

"Do you think we would joke about something this important?" one of the five mages at the semi-circular table asked, her elaborate robes signifying her office as one of Azarath's select rulers. "Our decision is final, human."

Arella barely kept herself from flinching at the pejorative use of her race: she hadn't been talked down to like that since the first week she'd arrived in Azarath, all those years ago. Desperate, she looked to her staunchest ally on the Council with pleading eyes.

"Wanax," she said, "I know you don't think this is the right thing to do."

The old man gave Arella a sad gaze in return, shaking his head.

"Trigon's defeat is of the utmost importance, Arella," Wanax replied. "It is clear now, beyond all doubt, that the lives of Trigon and your daughter are linked. The only way to ensure the demon does not regain his lost powers is to let Malchior kill her."

The declaration knocked the wind out of Arella's gut, and it took every ounce of her poise not to reel backwards.

"How… how can you say that?" she breathed, staring at Wanax. "You've known Raven her entire life. You've always supported her in the past. You delivered her into the world with your own hands. She's not someone you can just put down, like a sick animal. She's my _daughter_!" Arella finished, her voice risen to a shout as her hands clenched into fists at her sides.

"Calm yourself," another one of the Council members said, her voice just shy of threatening. "I understand the power of a mother's love for their child. But _you_ must understand that Raven had her chance to destroy Trigon once before, and she failed. The best she could do was to leave him trapped in a semi-mortal state, and that is simply not enough to ensure the safety of Azarath and its people."

"Once Malchior has possession of Raven's heart," the first Council member who had spoken rejoined, "we will make sure that he is obliterated, and the heart along with him. Trigon will be permanently trapped in his weakened incarnation, and from there it will only be a matter of time before we can deliver his punishment."

Wanax brought his gavel down a few moments later, signaling the end of the meeting. The other four members of the Council got up and filed out through the front door, leaving Arella alone with the man she had thought was her benefactor.

"Malchior is already here," Wanax spoke up before Arella could say anything, his voice serious enough to demand her attention. "We have very little time, and I won't waste it. Come with me."

The Council member stood and walked toward the back of the room. Arella was puzzled by the sudden change in Wanax's demeanor, but was left with little choice but to follow him.

"I apologize for my earlier conduct," Wanax said gravely at last. "It was cruel, but the only way I cold keep the Council from suspecting me. I cannot imagine how painful it was for you to hear that. Forgive me."

Arella felt a weight roll off of her chest at the apology, relieved to know that she wasn't alone after all.

"There's nothing to forgive," she said. "I just can't believe the rest of the Council honestly thinks Raven should die."

"They hold that her first victory over Trigon had more to do with luck and coincidence than skill or effort," Wanax answered, "and they don't feel comfortable entrusting the fate of Azarath to chance. I pity them for their lack of faith, but their stance is understandable."

Arella bit her tongue and said nothing, continuing to follow the Council member further down into a tunnel that started to look more and more like a catacomb passageway with each passing minute.

"Where are we going?" she asked at last, after Wanax's silence became too much for her curiosity to bear.

"To do something that will likely get me permanently exiled," he answered. "But there are many other places I might be able to call home, and Trigon's defeat is far more important than my own standing on the High Council."

They kept walking, moving on in tense silence until the pair finally reached a wall of solid, glass-smooth obsidian.

"A dead end?" Arella said. Wanax smiled.

"To some, perhaps," he replied, touching the stone, "but not to me."

The mage spoke words in the native language of Azarath, his tone hushed to a whisper that his companion could not interpret. The stone began to ripple impossibly out from each of Wanax's fingertips, the disturbance spreading until it covered the entire barrier. The rippling intensified, getting faster and faster, until it became hard for Arella to tell whether or not the stone had been turned into water.

And then, right as the waves reached their peak, the slab of stone vanished entirely. In its place was a simple door of iron, its surface covered with symbols that had been carved deeply into the metal. Arella could recognize some of the runes as characters in the Azarathian alphabet, but others were completely indecipherable.

""Seventeen years ago," Wanax said, "when Trigon came here with his legions in search of your daughter, we managed to drive him off. But it was at great cost to us, and to the High Council in particular. Many of its members perished in the fight against Trigon's armies."

"Yes, I know," Arella said, her voice heavy. "And I am sorry for what I caused."

"You have no need to be sorry," Wanax replied. "No blame for any of that rests on your shoulders. What Trigon did to you was unforgivable, and you will never be punished for it as long as I have the strength to prevent such a thing.

"I didn't bring the past up to indict you," he continued, as the door in front of them swung open with a groan, "but rather as a way to shed light upon the present. After we drove off Trigon's invasion, the Council decided that our defenses had proven to be pathetically inadequate for hindering his assault. We argued for some time to find a solution to our problem, but the High Council was hopelessly divided.

"Eventually," Wanax finished as they continued forward, "I decided to take matters in to my own hands."

By now, the torchlight had grown bright enough that Arella could see a young man sitting beneath it, perfectly still and calm in meditation. The odd familiarity of his face sent a shiver cutting right though to Arella's bones, a shiver that only worsened when he opened his mouth and spoke.

"Azarath is burning," he said in a voice that pulled Arella back to that horrible night she had hoped to forget forever, "and you're wasting your time telling a story that doesn't matter. Typical."

The young man rose to his feet, opening his eyes as he did so to reveal a pair of bright orange irises. He smiled sharply, his fanged canine teeth glinting faintly in the dim light.

"I was wondering how long it would take you to make your way down here, father," he continued, turning to face Wanax. "Does the Council know about this?"

"They have no idea you exist, Rhan," the mage answered seriously, "and they never will."

"Oh, really?" Rhan replied, the smile on his face now bright with vicious glee. "Does that mean I have your permission to kill them all, when they realize their plan's gone south and they show up to finish what Malchior started?"

"No," Wanax said sternly, "you do not. And hopefully, it will not come to that."

"Trusting to hope at a time like this is foolish," Rhan countered, before turning to look at Arella. "If the sight of me pains you," he said with a shocking level of civility, "you have my apologies."

"I—" she stammered, caught completely off-guard. "I beg your pardon?"

Rhan stared at her, the look in his orange eyes sympathetic.

"Trigon destroyed your life," the young man answered plainly. "I assume the sight of me brought some of those memories rushing back to you."

Arella took a moment to regain her mental balance, before she glanced over at Wanax with confusion still lingering in her eyes.

"But… he can't be…"

"It's a sad story," Rhan cut her off, "and one that we don't have time for right now. Did you break the seal, old man?"

"Yes," Wanax answered. "You are free to leave. Keep Raven alive, and I won't force you to return."

Rhan nodded, turning back to regard Arella.

"We should get going," he said, holding out his hand. "Come on."

Arella placed her hand in Rhan's, and a heartbeat later four red eyes flared to life on the young man's face.

Before she could scream, the world had gone completely dark.

* * *

Rhan took in the scene in front of him as soon as his soul-self had dissipated, seeing that Malchior was only inches away from murdering Raven. He began to move without a moment's hesitation, charging towards the demon and lashing out with a powerful crescent of black energy. Malchior shifted his focus and batted the attack away with his free hand, letting Raven go and jumping to the side as he turned to face the unexpected new arrival.

"Who're you, then?" the dragon asked, before he winced in pain and looked down at his hand. It was charred black, the fingers misshapen.

"Wha—?" Malchior began to say, before another blast of energy slammed into his chest and sent the demon careening backwards. Rhan hurried over to where Raven was lying in a heap on the ground, reaching out with his senses and cringing as he felt how weak and drained she was.

"Wake up," he said softly, placing his forefinger gently against the gem in the middle of her forehead. "I need your help, sister."

A quick jolt of energy was all it took for two pairs of red eyes to open on Raven's face, the empath taking in a rattling breath as her Rage surged to the forefront of her mind. She looked up at Rhan, the confusion that clouded her eyes replaced in a blink by stunned recognition.

"_How…?"_

"I'll tell you later," Rhan said, as he heard Malchior roar in anger. "Get up and get ready to fight."

Rage was on her feet in an instant, and Rhan reached inward to tap into his own dark side as well. Four red eyes appeared on his face once again, and he greeted Malchior's burst of fire with an equally powerful wave of black energy.

"Well, well," Malchior said as he transformed back into a dragon, "what do we have here? Another one of Trigon's rebellious scions? That might at least make this interesting."

"_I don't suppose I have to tell you," _Rhan spoke to Rage, _"not to hold back?"_

The emotion snorted in derision.

"_Please."_

Malchior took to the sky, both of his opponents following him.

"_That shock you gave me won't last for very long," _Rage grit out as she felt a lingering spike of pain. _"Make this quick."_

Rhan nodded, sending out several crescent-shaped blades of energy that cut deeply into Malchior's body.

"_Of course."_

The dragon barely had enough time to scream in pain before thick walls of black energy slammed into him his left and right sides simultaneously, crushing several of his bones beneath their force. Looking down, he saw the creature who had once been Raven chanting something— words Malchior vaguely recognized as ones he had taught her himself.

"No," he groaned, shortly before a massive spear of energy ripped through his flesh, tearing him apart.

Rhan looked over at Rage in the wake of her attack, his red eyes wide with surprise.

"_Where did _that _come from?"_ he asked, drawing a satisfied smirk from his half-sibling.

"_Jealous?"_ Rage said, before a fresh wave of pain broke her focus and she struggled against it.

Rhan exhaled and closed his eyes, the top pair vanishing a moment later. He opened them again, restored to their normal orange color, and placed a gentle hand against Rage's forehead.

"Sleep."

Rage opened her mouth to protest, but her eyes closed before she could say anything. Her body went slack, and Rhan braced it with energy before quickly descending back down to the ground. Laying Raven's unconscious body next to the dying blonde-haired young woman, the half-demon knelt down and placed one of his hands on each of their hearts.

"This is going to hurt," he said softly. "Sorry."

Taking a deep breath, Rhan channeled as much of his energy as he could into both Raven and the other young woman. The drain exhausted him, but seeing both of them jolt back to awareness was worth it. The vicious gash across the chest of the woman with the blonde hair—her name was 'Terra', Rhan had seen—had closed up, the immediate danger to her life successfully warded off. He staggered backwards, feeling cold, hot, light-headed and sick to his stomach all at the same time.

Why he went out of his way to help people when this was the kind of thanks he got from karma, Rhan would never know.

"Are you all right?" he vaguely heard Arella asking him a few moments later, as the half-demon braced himself against a nearby wall and tried to catch his breath.

"I'll be fine," Rhan forced out, attempting to overcome his nausea through sheer willpower and not quite succeeding. "And so will they."

"Thank you."

Rhan shrugged, the show of gratitude making him slightly uneasy.

"Don't mention it," he said, before pushing off of the wall and steadying himself on his own two feet. "We need to get the hell out of Azarath, though. If the rest of the Council finds us here, we're all as good as dead."

Arella nodded in agreement, before she saw something over Rhan's shoulder and smiled.

"You're awake," she said, sounding immensely relieved. "How do you feel?"

Rhan saw Arella's eyes narrow in concern, and every hair on the back of his neck stood up on end.

"Raven?" Arella asked. "Are you all right?"

Rhan was too tired to even try and dodge the blast of dark energy that slammed into him, hurling his body back into the nearby wall. Raven followed up her attack a moment later by pinning Rhan to the wall with an unexpectedly strong grip around his throat, staring hard into the half-demon's eyes.

"Who are you?" she demanded, sounding both angry and slightly afraid. "How did you do that to me?"

"That doesn't sound like 'Thank you so much for saving my life,'" Rhan shot back, his voice barely higher than a whisper. "Let me go."

"Not until you answer my questions," Raven persisted, tightening her choke-hold.

"Raven, stop it," Arella insisted. "We don't have time for this right now."

"You saw what he did!" the empath practically snarled, turning to face her mother. "He brought her back! I could have killed all of you!"

"But you didn't," Arella said, softening her voice as she saw tears running down her daughter's cheeks. "Rhan made sure of that. The least you can do is let him explain himself, after you've all gotten out of here."

"Unfortunately," a new voice broke in, "he won't be going anywhere."

Raven barely had time to react to the unexpected arrival before she was gripped by a spell and forcefully pulled away from her captive.

"Wanax?" Arella asked, puzzled at the sight of her friend advancing on Rahn with such coldness in his eyes. "What are you doing?"

The mage said nothing, reaching out and taking hold of the half-demon with his powers before hauling him up a few feet off the ground.

"Ridding Azarath of this monster," Wanax replied, before clenching his outstretched hand into a fist. Rahn's back arched as his hands and feet seemed to be drawn to a point behind him, and it was only a few seconds before the onlookers heard the sound of bones breaking.

Rahn screamed in pain, four red eyes appearing reflexively on his face.

"Stop struggling," Wanax said, not bothering to hide his scorn. "Your power is useless against mine. I created you, after all— did you really think I hadn't prepared for this?"

"_We had a deal!" _Rahn shouted, before screaming in pain again as his entire body was bent sharply in the other direction, forcing him into the fetal position as even more of his bones snapped under the strain.

"Yes, we did," Wanax answered, "and you performed admirably, as to be expected of a puppet. But now that Raven is no longer in danger, I'm considering our contract to be at an end."

The mage formed a dense sphere of energy in his free hand, and Raven could feel the sheer amount of power radiating off of it.

Beast Boy and Terra rushed forward at the same time, only to find themselves immediately encased in thick, unbreakable bands of energy. A quick shock hit them, and they fell to the ground.

"Before you blindly try to save the life of an abomination," Wanax said, "you should think about whom you're fighting."

"_If you let our brother die,"_ Rage spoke from within Raven's soul, sounding as angry as the empath had ever heard, _"You will never know another day of peace in your life. I promise you that."_

Raven felt confusion and fear cloud her mind, but the fog lifted in a surge of focus as she saw Wanax prepare to hurl the sphere at Rhan.

She loosed a few darts of energy at his arm, enough to throw off the mage's aim and send the orb smashing into the wall. Rhan fell to the ground as the hold around him broke down, gasping for breath. Wanax whirled on Raven with fury in his eyes, while Beast Boy and Terra scrambled to their feet as soon as the bands around them had shattered.

"Tell me what's going on," Raven demanded, unfazed by Wanax's anger. "Who is he?"

"An experiment," the mage snapped back. "Nothing you should be concerned with."

"Yeah, like I'm gonna believe that," Terra broke in, tearing two large chunks of rock up from the ground. "Whoever he is, I owe him for saving me. Answer her question, asshole."

Beast Boy turned into a large Amur tiger, growling threateningly at Wanax. Seeing himself surrounded by forces that could easily become hostile, the mage backed down. He opened his mouth to speak, but Rahn preempted him.

"What he said about creating me was the truth," the half-demon explained. "After Trigon got driven out of Azarath, Wanax salvaged some of his body from the battlefield. He used it to imbue an infant— his own son — with the demon's power."

Raven stared at Rhan, stunned by the implications of what she'd just been told. Suddenly, everything that had happened made perfect, horrifying sense.

"You… you did this on purpose?" the empath asked, turning to face Wanax. "To your _own child_?"

"I did what was necessary to defend Azarath," the Council member answered stubbornly. "Don't presume to judge me."

"Y'know, five minutes ago I would've been willing to bet a fortune that Slade was the scummiest person alive," Terra said, her voice seething with barely-controlled anger as the rocks she was holding up in the air began to quiver. "But I think you just took that spot."

"Challenging me," Wanax grit out, "would be most unwise."

Terra said nothing, letting her boulders fly with a shout. The mage broke them apart with a blast of energy, shifting into an offensive stance.

"This is regrettable," he said, "but certainly not unpredictable."

Wanax made to fire another burst of energy at Terra, but Beast Boy's tiger jaws had clamped down tight around his arm before the attack could be launched. The mage shouted in pain, retaliating a moment later by hitting the changeling with an attack unleashed at point-blank range.

Beast Boy roared in pain and flew backwards, skidding across the ground as he reflexively shifted back to his normal appearance. Raven took up the offensive, covering her fist in black energy and smashing it into Wanax's jaw. The mage slid back under the force of the blow, but stayed on his feet.

"I'm not your enemy here," the mage insisted, pushing Raven backwards with a concussive burst as he wiped a trickle of blood away from his mouth. "Just let me finish this, and then I'll send you and your friends back home safely."

"I'm not going to let you murder him," the empath shot back, unleashing another attack. Wanax crossed his arms in front of him to block it, the energy leaving his flesh burned and smoking in its wake.

"Why do you even care?" the mage asked, punching Raven in the gut hard enough to take the wind out of her, sending the empath to her knees. "You'd never even meant him before today. He's a symbol of everything you hate about yourself; everything you fear! Do you think some artificial bond of kinship matters? Rhan is my son! His life is mine to control, however I choose! He survives only because I allow it!"

The last statement sent a wave of hatred surging through Raven, and she felt her Rage rushing up from the pit of her stomach.

This time, she didn't even try to control it.

"_Someone told me that once," _she growled, staring at Wanax with four red, burning eyes. _"In those exact words, actually. Do you know what I did to him?"_

Wanax tried to attack again, but found that he couldn't move any of his muscles. His eyes widened in fear as Raven grew taller before his eyes, a dark aura spreading larger and larger at her feet.

"Please…" he said, his voice only slightly more dignified than a whimper. "Spare me."

"Don't worry, old man," a low voice whispered in Wanax's ear as the mage felt a sudden, stabbing pain in his chest. "She's not going to kill you. I am."

The shocked mage looked down slowly, and he could vaguely see an arm sticking out through his chest as agony made his vision swim and cloud.

"You…" Wanax rasped weakly. "Why…?"

"Are you serious?" Rhan asked, his voice cutting with mockery. "That's a stupid question to waste your last few breaths on. There aren't words in any language that could express how much I hate you."

The mage's body fell forward with a dull _thud_, and Rhan looked up calmly at Rage.

"It's done," he said. "We need to go. Now."

Rage looked surprised at the unexpected turn of events, but quickly mastered her expression and lowered herself back down to the ground. She looked closely at Rhan, who remained unflinching even as blood dripped slowly from his hand.

"_You really aren't afraid of me," _she asked, _"are you?"_

"No," he answered simply. "Why would I be scared of looking into a mirror?"

Rage's eyes widened slightly, her surprise at the unexpected answer great enough to give Raven control once more. She blinked at Rhan.

"I really need to know how you do that," she said, sounding distracted. Her half-brother nodded.

"I'll do my best to teach you."

The silence held for a heartbeat, until Terra's insistent voice broke it.

"Look, the sibling stuff is really touching and all," she said, "but we need to split. The cavalry's on its way."

True to Terra's word, four portals were opening in the sky above their heads. Raven looked over at her mother, her dark violet eyes panicking.

Arella smiled sadly and shook her head.

"I'll be fine," she said. "The Council won't charge me with anything, once they hear about what happened. But I can't speak for the four of you, and that's not a chance I want to take. Go."

Raven rushed over and gave her mother a quick, wordless embrace, before stepping back and looking over at Rahn.

"Can you open a portal?"

"Not by myself," he answered. "I can help you open one, though."

The pair quickly got to work, repeating the same chant that Terra had heard Malchior use back on Earth. The four portals above them widened, and the remaining members of the High Council began their descent as Arella looked on nervously. When the mages saw what was going on, they increased their speed and were almost on the ground when the exit portal tore open the air in front of Raven and Rahn.

The four unlikely allies raced into the portal, but one of the Council members shot a beam of magic energy through the opening just before it shut completely.

In the maelstrom of space-time within the portal, Beast Boy, Raven, Terra and Rahn were barely managing to keep their grip on one another when the attack hit them, shattering their focus and sending them hurtling blindly through the void. Raven barely managed to keep them all together, but she was forced to give up concentrating on steering them to their destination.

Trying to imagine Gotham in her mind as clearly as she could, Raven had no choice but to hope for the best.

A few moments later, the void disappeared in a bright flash of light, and the four travelers found themselves sprawled out on the ground in disarray.

"Ugh," Beast Boy groaned, the first one in the group to recover as he forced himself into a sitting position. "I feel like…"

The rest of his words died on his tongue, the changeling's eyes widening in surprise as he saw what was all around them.

Specifically, a swarm of police in riot gear leveling shotguns at their faces.

"Don't move," one of them said, "or we'll shoot."

"This is the absolute last thing I need right now, man," Beast Boy said, too exhausted to resist as the group of security officers quickly restrained the group, pinning them to the tiled floor.

"They're metahumans," one of the police said. "And I've definitely seen this one before," he specified, pointing at Terra. "She's a mercenary. Tranq 'em."

Beast Boy could barely squirm against the arm-lock, and a second later the warm prick of a needle was followed closely by a rush of sedative shot into his neck.

"I don't know how you all managed to get past our guards," the changeling heard them say hazily as he began to pass out, "but whoever hired you to help them escape picked a pretty horrible crew."

"We didn't…" Beast Boy tried to protest, and then the drugs overtook him.

* * *

Robin felt his communicator vibrate in his pocket, and stood up from his chair in surprise. Starfire was asleep on the bed nearby, but didn't wake up at the sudden sound. She burrowed further into the mattress, mumbling something incoherent. Taking out the small device and cradling it in the palm of his hand, Robin flipped the top open and looked at the read-out.

What he saw on it made him smile for the first time since before Starfire had learned about her parents' deaths… until he saw where Raven's signal was coming from, and his smile faded just as quickly as it had appeared.

"Star," he said loudly, hoping to rouse his girlfriend. "Starfire, wake up. We have a problem."

"Problem…?" the Tamaranean said hazily, sitting up slowly. "What is wrong?"

"It's Raven and Beast Boy," Robin answered gravely. "They're in big trouble."

Starfire snapped to alert in an instant at the mention of her friends being in danger, and was quickly up and out of bed.

"What is wrong?" she asked, but Robin didn't answer right away. He left the room and walked down the hall, Starfire following at his side.

"Robin?" she pressed. "What is wrong?"

"I don't know how it happened," he replied, "but they managed to wind up somewhere bad. Really, really bad."

"But, where?" Starfire asked. "Is it not somewhere on Earth?"

Robin shook his head.

"They got back to Gotham, all right," he answered, stopping as he got to the door of Damian's room. "It's _where_ they wound up in Gotham that's the problem."

Robin knocked hard on the door, provoking a few muffled, hurried sounds from within the room. The door opened a minute later, and the pair stepped back to let Damian and Blackfire join them out in the hall. Starfire could see that her sister's face was slightly flushed, but made no comment.

"What's up?" Damian asked, immediately seeing the agitation on his brother's face.

"Beast Boy and Raven are back in Gotham," Robin explained, "but they're in danger."

"That doesn't surprise me, if they learned from you," Damian said. "How bad's the danger?"

Robin's eyes hardened.

"They're in Blackgate Prison."

Damian's expression turned into a rare display of open shock at the name.

"Oh, shit."

"Pretty much."

"And you're going to ask us to help spring them, right?"

Robin nodded.

Damian took a breath, settling himself as he closed his eyes for a moment. When they opened back up, they were bright with intensity.

"Then what're we waiting for?"

* * *

…

…

**A/N:** Well hey, that one didn't take nearly as long as I was afraid it might. I figured you guys could use a larger than normal chapter after such a long hiatus, so I made sure this one was especially action-packed. I had to re-write the scene where Rahn gets introduced about ten times, though: I couldn't figure out what I wanted that OC to be for the longest time, since he'll turn into a fairly important character in the future. So I hope he turned out likeable, at least!

Next chapter will probably also turn out to be something of a doozy, since prison breaks almost never go smoothly. There'll also be some more Terra goodness, since I both love writing her, and she and Beast Boy have a lot to talk about. I would have given them some time this chapter, but there wasn't really space for much dialogue when everything was busy exploding.

Now, I want to take some time to give shout-outs to those four awesome people who reviewed last chapter, because they are awesome! Many thanks to **2-shadows**, **DarknessPwns0.o**, **Jasmine** (who called that Beast Boy would wind up turning into a dragon, so props to them for that), and last but most certainly not least, to long-time reviewer **Wolvmbm**. Thanks for sticking around, buddy.

I really appreciate you reading this far, and I hope you enjoyed it! I would say that I'll stop naming chapters after tracks on the "Dark Knight Rises" soundtrack, but that might make me a liar.

**_Also,_** if you review and I take a while to reply, it's just because I'm somewhere with really bad internet right now. I'll get back to you as soon as I can!

See you next time!

**- Jazz**


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